


King George

by katerinawastaken



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Childhood Memories, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Jealous GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), King GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Knight Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Simp Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), sbi family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katerinawastaken/pseuds/katerinawastaken
Summary: After the death of King Schlatt, the imminent coronation of his son, Prince George nears closer everyday. Add in the additional stress of your childhood best friend and crush returning from war, a dangerous anarchist trying to overthrow the monarchy, and lots and lots of mixed signals, and you get a very interesting set up for George to start to rule over._Aka I got this idea the second I saw Dream make George the king and this is what happened. I refer to Dream as mainly Clay in this bc it's like, you know. Royalty and stuff. I ALSO WANT TO POINT OUT THAT I DO NOT SHIP DREAM AND GEORGE IN REAL LIFE!! I JUST SHIP THEIR MINECRAFT CHARACTERS.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 226





	1. Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first M|M fic that I've written, but I'm actually pretty excited about it! Constructive criticism is definitely welcome! ALSO, I said it in the summary, but I DO NOT SHIP DREAM AND GEORGE IN REAL LIFE!! I JUST SHIP THEIR MINECRAFT CHARACTERS. I know they said they're okay with people shipping them and stuff, but I just wanted to put that out there. Okay, that's it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I missed you, Dream.” The prince whispers.
> 
> Clay sighs, trying to ignore the increase in his heartbeat as the words flood through his head. “I missed you too, George.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter pog!!!
> 
> hope you all enjoy :p

**T** he coronation was less than a week away, and yet Prince George still had not managed to wrap his head around the responsibility that he would soon have to take control of. His father, King Schlatt had passed away a week ago in the Great War of L’Manburg, which had ended in a victory for the kingdom. As Prince George was the only son of King Schlatt, the position of King of L’Manburg fell onto the young prince. While it was true that the prince was never close to his father, his passing left Prince George without a family, the death of the queen having taken place years prior due to the plague. 

As of now, the prince had been pacing nervously around his chambers, the warm sun leaking through the wide windows causing sweat to form around his forehead. It was times like these when the prince appreciated his father’s presence; George had no clue how to manage an army, how to deal with a country who had just lost its king of many years. While the prince was well liked among the citizens of L’Manburg, there were still those who refused to bow to the monarchy, a group of rebels lead by the notorious anarchist Technoblade stirring trouble in the town; raising rumors about how Prince George was still too young to lead and how L’Manburg would fall under his reign. The prince was determined to prove him wrong, to prove everyone wrong. Especially himself. 

A rapid knock on the doors to the prince’s chambers startles the young man, causing him to lose his train of thoughts. He slowly walks towards the door. “Who is it?” 

“Open the door and find out.” A familiar voice calls back. 

A wide smile forms across George’s face as he flings the door ajar. “You’re back!” He says in delight. 

Standing in front of him was George’s oldest friend and one of L’Manburg’s greatest knights; Clay of L’Manburg. The young knight had moved to L’Manburg from the colonies when he was three years old, George being six at the time. The prince took an immediate liking to Clay, who he usually referred to as Dream due to a long running joke that Clay was something out of a fantasy to George. The pair were practically inseparable throughout their childhoods and it wasn’t until Clay was 16 when the two were separated; Clay being sent into battle to fight in the war. George had not seen him since the day Clay had shipped off, and to say that Clay had changed would be an understatement. 

The once scrawny, short, boy that George had chased around the castle and played in the fields had been replaced with a man; a large scar showing on the left side of his face, his green eyes mature, yet still playful, and his twiggy arms now muscular and toned. His short, dirty blond hair was now shaggy and almost touching the knight’s shoulders, which were covered by a tight, white shirt that fit him wonderfully. The most shocking part of Clay’s transition was how tall he was; he now towered a good six inches over George, causing the prince to feel ridiculously small next to his friend. 

A cheeky grin flashes across Clay’s face when he takes in the sight of the prince. “I mean you didn’t expect me to die on you, did you? Who would protect the future king of L’Manburg if the nations’ greatest warrior had passed?” 

George laughs, pulling his friend in close for a hug. Clay immediately accepts the hug, squeezing tightly around the prince’s waist. “I missed you, Dream.” The prince whispers.

Clay sighs, trying to ignore the increase in his heartbeat as the words flood through his head. “I missed you too, George.”

~~~~~~

After what seemed like hours of talking, laughing, crying, and basically every emotion there is, the two boys had fallen into the same routine they had when they were younger. Clay told George of his adventures overseas, about the war, about the lives he saw fade away in front of him. He spoke enthusiastically of a boy he met while in battle, how the two had clicked instantly and formed a close bond. ‘If it weren’t for him, I think I would have killed myself out of sadness,’ Clay had said. George wouldn’t lie when he said the sharp pang of jealousy that surged through him in that moment wasn’t extremely painful.  _ Why am I feeling this? Clay is my friend, nothing more… Right?  _

The pair were sitting on the floor in front of George’s bed when the doors to his bedroom burst open, revealing one of his father’s old advisors. He looks panicked, and the prince quickly stands, causing a puzzled look to cross Clay’s face. 

“Pri- King George, there has been an uproar in the village. Our scouts have reported that Technoblade and his rebels were spotted.” 

George’s face becomes stern, and Clay’s face drops, slowly rising. “I’ll go check it out.” The knight says, his voice strong and confident.

It’s then when George turns to his friend, his brown eyes soft. “Clay, you’ve been gone for five years. Things have escalated here. Technoblade has been building his army of rebels, and it's only a matter of time before he attempts to overthrow the monarchy, to overthrow me. He’s dangerous, Dream, too dangerous to take on your own.” 

Clay lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing that the prince was right. An idea flashes into his head, a small smile crossing his lips. “I have backup! The men I met in battle are some of the most valiant and brilliant people I have met, and I know that they would do anything to protect their future king.”

As Clay speaks his high praises of his fellow knights, another flash of jealousy comes over again, but the prince tries to suppress it again.  _ What is happening to me…  _ He straightens himself, nodding to Clay. “Suit up, then.” George turned back towards the advisor, who was still standing in the doorway. “Let’s get this traitor in jail.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**I** t took approximately four hours for George to begin to worry about sending Clay into town. The first hour was filled with a briefing on Technoblade’s history; George’s new advisors attempting to figure out how he constantly seemed to get away right when he was about to be caught, how he had managed to create such a strong based rebellion without being detected by the king’s scouts. During the second hour, George met with the castle’s priest, getting guidance on how to please the Lord and how to keep the Heavenly Father with him while he was king. George sent a silent prayer for the safety of Clay in that moment, hoping that his pleas would be heard. The third hour was spent by George trying to find something, anything, really, to do that would distract him from thinking about what was happening in the village. The prince walked around the entire castle and had talked to a few nobles that were a part of his father’s council. 

However, as the fourth hour approached, George found himself in the castle’s rose garden. The sweet scent of the flowers flooded his nose, bringing him back to a fond memory of his childhood. 

_ The young prince and his best friend giggled as they frolicked through the castle grounds, laughing loudly as they sprinted through the wide, open fields.  _

_ Clay stopped, looking at George. “I bet I can beat you to the rose gardens.” A confident smirk played on his lips, even as a child, Clay’s ego always had astounded the prince. _

_ George scoffed. “As if, I’m so much faster than you.” _

_ “Alright, then let’s see who’s right.” Clay’s eyes sparkled, causing doubt to flood George’s mind. “We’ll go on three. One… two… three!”  _

_ The two boys took off towards the garden, George taking the lead. They were about fifty feet away from their destination when Clay suddenly let out a loud yelp, causing George to falter. The prince turned around to see his friend collapsed on the ground and immediately ran back to check on him. “DREAM! Dream are you okay? What happened?”  _

_ Clay looked up at his friend with the same confident smirk as before. “I can’t believe you fell for that.” The blond boy sprung up, sprinting gracefully to the rose garden, leaving George there, speechless.  _

_ “HEY!” George quickly runs to where his friend now stood, tackling him to the ground. The two wrestled for a bit, but at the time, George was still bigger than Clay, resulting in the prince pinning his friend under him. His gaze was harsh, fury sparking within him. “You can’t do that! It’s cheating!”  _

_ Clay huffs. “It’s not cheating, it’s taking advantage of the situation. You care about me more than you cared about winning, so I just played the cards to my benefit.” Sometimes, the way Clay spoke astounded George. Even at the mere age of nine, Clay spoke with such intelligence that it made George wonder if there was actually an old man living inside his friend’s body.  _

_ George scowls. “I don’t care about you that much.”  _

_ A small blush forms on his pale cheeks and Clay laughs. “Yes you do! You’re blushing!” The younger boy pushes George off of him, leaving the prince sitting in the grass with an embarrassed look on his face. He gives the prince a sheepish smile, plucking a rose from one of the many bushes and putting it behind George’s ear. “It’s okay, though. I care about you too.” _

The sight of the rose garden causes tears to well up in George’s brown eyes, worry over running his body and causing him to collapse onto the soft, green grass.  _ God, please if you can hear me, PLEASE let Clay come back to me… I don’t know what I would do without him. I just got him back, I can’t go through letting him go again.  _ George prayed with everything in him, tears running down his cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut so tight that it almost hurt. 

“Your highness.” A voice snaps through the air, causing George to quickly wipe his tears away and straighten his shoulders, standing and facing the voice. “They’re back.”

~~~~~~

It took the prince approximately five minutes to get all the way from the far end of the castle’s fields all the way to the infirmary, where he found his best friend bandaged up and bloody. A choked sob escapes the prince’s throat as he staggers to the ground next to Clay. “God please, no…” A hoarse whisper emerges from his lips. He grasped his friend’s hand. “Please, bring him back to me.” 

A cough draws the prince away from his plea’s, causing his pain filled brown eyes to lay upon a few men dressed in the armour of L’Manburg. “Your highness, my name is Sir Nick, and this here,” the man gestures to one of the men standing next to him. “Is Sir Karl. We met Sir Clay in battle and we formed a deep connection of brotherhood. When he asked me to join him today in town, I knew what we were risking. We’ve all heard stories of the dangers that Technoblade has caused in the village, but I knew that I had to fight with my brother. If I had known that this would happen…” His voice trails off as sadness fills the knight’s eyes. “I pray that he returns to us soon, he always spoke so highly of you and how he couldn’t wait to see you again, I hope that he will once more be able to join you again.” Sir Nick gives a small, sympathetic smile. 

George rises, taking a few steps towards the men. “You have fought so hard to protect this land, and for that, you have my eternal thanks. Drea- Clay is a loyal friend of mine, so if he trusts you men, I do as well. It is an honor to finally meet you.” He returns the smile that the slightly shorter knight had given him. “Please, be my guest here in the castle. L’Manburg owes the brave knights of the war a proper welcome home.”

The knight introduced as Sir Karl returns George’s invitation with a warm smile. “Thank you, your highness. The honor, however, is ours. We look forward to your upcoming coronation, I see great things occurring in the future of L’Manburg.”

It is at that moment when a pained groan emerges from behind the prince, causing George to whip his head around and quickly return to his kneeling position by Clay’s cot. “Clay? Oh God please, Clay tell me you can hear me.” He unconsciously takes Clay’s hand into his own, rubbing his thumb over it. 

The soft squeeze that Clay gives back is enough to make George let out a sob of relief. “G-George?” Clay’s voice is scratchy and causes the prince to flinch. 

“Y-yeah. I’m here, Dream.” He tentatively wraps his arms around Clay’s limp body. “I’ll always be here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...wow! first chapter done baby LETS GOOOO! anyways, I hoped you enjoyed it!


	2. No One is Watching, it's Just You and Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay leans down so that his lips brush against George’s ear, a sharp chill running throughout the shorter boy’s body. “I fully intend on making up for all the lost time.” Clay puts a finger under George’s chin, tilting his head up and grinning. “We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

After three agonizing days, Clay was finally released from the infirmary. It had pained George to see his friend in so much agony, but with the help of the realm’s most talented healers, all that remained from the rebel’s attack on Clay in the village was a raised scar that stretched across a good portion of the knight’s torso. 

The first time George had seen it was when he had accidentally walked into Clay’s chambers with some dumb idea to talk to him about, but all coherent thought left his head the second he opened the door. “Hey Clay, I was thinking about your soldier friends and I- Oh.”

Clay stood in the middle of the room, a loose white shirt laying on his shoulders, completely unbuttoned. Upon first sight of Clay’s bare chest, the prince found himself flooded with guilt for seeing his friend in such an intimate way, his pale cheeks becoming a light pink color. While he tried to hide his flushing from the knight, Clay found a way to see it anyways. “Aw am I making the crown prince of L’Manburg flustered? Really, your highness, if I had known that all I had to do was get stabbed and almost die for you to become nervous around me, I would’ve done it sooner.” The way Clay spoke with such forwardness always took George aback, never knowing if the knight was being serious in his flirtatious comments or if it was just his personality. 

Instead of confronting his thoughts, George instead suppressed them with a gulp and scoffed. “Yeah, right. You wish, Dream.”

A dangerous glint shone in Clay’s bright green eyes, one that George knew all too well. “Yeah, I really do.” The comment shot shivers throughout George’s body, causing a light blush to flood his cheeks.

“Shut up, Clay.” His friend only let out a wheeze, his eyes lingering on me a little longer before returning to what he was doing.

But that was only the start of the weird behavior. To honor the returning soldiers from the war, Prince George and his advisors had decided to throw a ball in their name, the preparations for it immediately beginning. It would be the first ball George would be throwing as the new king of L’Manburg, even if it was not official for a few more days. He hoped that it would lift the spirits of the castle after the mishaps with Technoblade’s riots. 

Speaking of the riots, it seemed as if the one that George had sent Clay and the other knights in to deal with had simply been a few of Technoblade’s followers. They had been stirring up trouble with some of the people who were loyal to the crown, attempting to sway them to the rebel’s side. When the townsfolk refused, the rebels started to riot; smashing windows and destroying other things around town. It was then that the knights arrived, and after a few hours, the rebels were captured and brought back to the castle. However, one of them still managed to slash Clay right before they were placed in cuffs; the gash on his side was quite wide and painful to look at. 

All that remained of the wound, however, was a scar. The healers of L’Manburg were well versed in the magic of body damage, practically getting rid of Clay’s wound. George still would catch his friend wince in pain every so often, the pain still a factor that had not gone away like the blood had. George secretly hoped that while also honoring the knights, he could also distract Clay from all of his pain. It was the least he could do, after all, he was the one who sent him into town. The young prince was interrupted from his train of thought by a knock on his door. “Come in!” The doors swung open and without a moment of hesitation, George was flung on to his bed, whoever it was bolting into the room pinning his shoulders firmly above the prince’s head. “HEY! Get off of me, I’m the crown prince of- Oh.”

Looming intensely over George was none other than Clay himself, his green eyes filled with something that the prince couldn’t quite place. “George, I need help.” 

The prince rolled his eyes, trying to suppress the unfamiliar feeling that stirred in his gut. “Yeah, clearly. Get off of me, idiot.” George tried to move Clay off of him, but due to the fact that Clay was significantly bigger than him, George remained pinned beneath his friend. At this moment, it was hard for George to not stare in awe at Clay; his hair was glowing as the sunlight hit it perfect, making it look like a golden halo on top of his head. His lips are twisted into his signature smirk, and his eyes are light and playful. The closeness of the two allows George to see the freckles that littered his nose and cheeks, and without thinking, George traces his thumb against the dots, completely entrances with the patterns on his face. 

Clay loosened at George’s touch, his grip on the prince’s shoulder’s becoming easy to slip out from. Seeing a window of opportunity to turn the tables in the prince’s favor, George swiftly flips them so that he is straddling the knight's narrow hips, causing Clay to let out an aggravated moan which causes blood to rush to George’s cheeks. And… somewhere else. “Oh come on now, that’s not fair.”

George shrugs, mirroring Clay’s smirk from earlier and leaning in towards Clay’s ear. “Sorry, Dream. I’m just taking advantage of the situation.” He leans back slightly, smirk still on his lips. “Isn’t that what you used to say? ‘It’s not cheating, George, I’m just playing the cards I have to my benefit.’” 

Clay clearly was not having it, another groan of frustration escaping his lips. He’s about to speak when another person bursts into the room, cutting the tension building in the room. “Clay, did you- OH MY GOD YOUR HIGHNESS, I AM SO SORRY!” An apologetic scream comes from the doorway, causing both Clay and George to whip their heads to where the sound came from. 

“S-Sir Nick! What an unexpected surprise! I, I uh-” George stumbles with his words, visibly flustered. George rolls quickly off of Clay, brushing himself off and standing to face the knight. In doing so, Clay’s eyes tilt down to where George had been sitting, visibly cringing when he noticed the firm afterthought of the position that had just been in the building below his belt. He snags a pillow and firmly places it over his crotch, sinking deep into the pillows. George flushes. “How can I help you?” God he could not have had worse timing, who knows what would’ve happened… 

Nick clears his throat. “I-If I interrupted anything I can return, um, later. Sir Clay had told me that he would be here and that he was going to ask you something about the ball, and I figured I would ask the same.” Nick pauses. “He did ask you, right?”

A muffled groan comes from the bed where Clay had almost completely submerged himself into, his blonde head of hair slowly peeping out. “Unfortunately, Sir Nick, I got a little… distracted.” His green eyes scan over George, causing the brunet to unconsciously fix his hair.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence (and of Clay still staring at George, but no one dared to say anything about it), George coughs to break the silence. “Um, so. Clay, what were you going to ask me?” 

Clay flinches, as if he wasn’t actually expecting to be spoken to. “Right! Uh…” His eyes meet Geroge’s brown ones and Clay quickly looks away, as if he wasn’t expecting George to be looking at him. “I- I uh, I don’t remember?”

George snorts and rolls his eyes, causing a light blush to spread over the knight’s freckled face. Not that George noticed, of course, but Sir Nick did. The other knight sighed. “What Sir Clay was SUPPOSED to ask you, your majesty, is if there was any way we could borrow some clothes. Since it has only been a mere couple of days since we returned, I am afraid that our formal clothes have failed to arrive yet.”

A surprised look crosses George’s face. “Oh! Well of course, I’ll bring in the finest tailors and get the two of you fitted immediately.” A warm smile crosses the prince’s mouth and Sir Nick returns it. 

“Thank you, your highness. I look forward to the ball tonight. Sir Clay, do you mind if I speak to you alone?” The look in Sir Nick’s eyes signified that he was not really asking, and another flash of jealousy ran over George. God, what could they be talking about? It clearly must be personal, I bet it’s about some girl who’s in love with Clay, or maybe it's about Sir Nick being in love with him. Why did these thoughts keep going through George’s head? He was to run a kingdom in just a few days now, he couldn’t afford to be distracted with these things. 

George’s big brown eyes turn back to where Clay was still buried in the blankets and pillows of the prince’s bed. The blond knight clears his throat, slowly removing himself from hiding and taking his time as he makes a show out of walking by George. “Hey, thanks for helping us out.” Clay smirks, leaning in close enough so that George can smell the overwhelming scent of lavender and firewood that the radiated. “Next time you have me in a position like that, I really hope that no one interrupts.” 

And then he leaves, causing George to stare at the now empty doorway in shock. What the FUCK was going on.

~~~~

Three hours after Clay and Nick left, George decided that it was time to start getting ready for the ball. He wouldn’t say it to anyone, but he was incredibly nervous about it. The prince knew from years of going to his father’s extravagant events that balls were about keeping up appearance and popularity. They helped network; strengthen bonds with neighboring kingdoms and such. This was going to be the first ball thrown since the war ended, and the first ball that George would be in charge of managing. Sure, he had servants and advisors to help him out, but he was the crown prince of L’Manburg; the future king. George sighed as he looked in his mirror, running his eyes over his reflection. 

He LOATHED dressing in his formal clothes; he found the fabrics to be itchy and heavy. A less than fond memory pops into his head; it had been his sixteenth birthday and his father had insisted on throwing a ball in his honor, claiming that “a boy’s sixteenth birthday is when he becomes a man.” The entire event had actually been a business negotiation. For what, you ask? The crown prince himself. The king had spent the entire evening trying to auction George out to woman after woman, claiming that George would never be a good king if he didn’t have a beautiful queen at his side. George, however, had found the entire ordeal disgusting, running away and hiding after an hour of being there. His father had become so furious at George that after everyone had left, the king went on a tantrum, breaking a vase and sending a piece of glass shooting across George’s eyebrow. George never got an apology for it.

The prince traced his finger over the faded scar that ran across the end of his left brow, flinching at the memory of his father. A knock at the door draws his attention, turning to see Sir Wilbur, a younger member of his father’s court who George had also grown up with. The councilman gives him a small smile. “Your highness, the ball awaits your presence.” 

George sighs, turning back to his mirror and straightening the royal blue robe that was draped across his shoulders. “Lead the way.” The two walked silently down the corridor leading to the ballroom, the awkwardness of neither of them speaking becoming a heavy inconvenience. George clears his throat, looking at the man standing next to him. “I was sorry to hear about the passing of your father, I remember how highly my father spoke of him. His valiancy in the war will never be forgotten.” Really George? Great conversation topic, bringing up someone’s dead father. Just because you had a piece of shit as a father, doesn’t mean everyone else did too…

The taller man gives the prince a kind smile. “Thank you, your highness. I look forward to continuing his legacy on the council, I hope to serve you just as my father served yours.” 

They fall into another silence, this one comfortable, though. Upon arrival at the ballroom, George couldn’t help but look around the room in awe. Warm colored lanterns float smoothly throughout the tall ceiling, filling the room with a comforting aura. The L’Manburg flag is featured around the room, and it feels as if the atmosphere of the room is simply magical. “No matter how many times I see this room, it never fails to amaze me.” George says in awe.

Wilbur chuckles. “Couldn’t agree more, your highness.” The two walk towards a group of nobles and councilmen, all of them bowing upon seeing George.

“Your majesty, it is an honor to be here this evening. Thank you for the invitation and the wonderful party.” George recognizes the voice to belong to Sir Karl, one of the knights he had met when Clay was admitted to the infirmary. 

George gives him a warm smile. “Please, it’s only right for me to honor the brave heroes. Your service to our country is appreciated greatly.” The group falls into a natural flowing conversation before George’s breath is unexpectedly stolen from his lungs upon seeing Clay.

He stands tall in the entrance of the ballroom; his hair a warm, gold color as it is illuminated by the bright lights above him. An emerald green cape is draped gracefully across his shoulder, laying on top of a tight fitting white shirt and a flattering pair of leather pants. Gold rings litter his fingers, a matching colored chain hanging around his neck. Holy fucking shit. George smiles at the nobles. “If you don’t mind, I have to go. It’s been a pleasure talking to you all.” Without waiting to hear their response, George quickly rushes to stand across from where Clay was standing, catching his eye and smiling.  
The blond returns the smile, his bright teeth flashing as he bounds towards the prince. “George!” Clay spins around, his cape flaring dramatically as he did. “What do you think?” A childlike grin lays perfectly on his lips, his entire face lighting up. 

George laughs. “I think that you clean up nice.” He unconsciously licks his lips and runs his eyes over his friend, meeting his eyes. Clay remained staring at George, not daring to take his eyes off of the prince. George couldn’t help but blush, pulling slightly on his collar. “God, I hate wearing formal clothes, they’re so itchy and hot.

Clay chuckles, taking a step closer to George and running his hand over the smooth velvet fabric of George’s robe. “I’ll have to disagree with you on that, your majesty.” Clay winks. “I think that you look absolutely dashing in these.” 

George’s blush deepens, but he doesn’t dare pull away. The two just stand there, Clay’s fingers wandering the soft sleeves of George’s robe until he reaches where the prince’s hand lay. Clay slowly begins to trace his finger across George’s hand, relishing in the feeling of the soft gasp that George released as he did it. “Clay…” George warned.

It was then that a slow song switched on, the melody of it flowing through the ball room. Clay smiles at George, offering his hand and bowing. “Your highness, may I please have this dance?” Clay tilts his head up, looking up at George with hooded eyes and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

George suppressed a gulp. “If I must.” He took Clay’s hand, the two of them moving to where the other people had been dancing. None of them mattered, though, when Clay’s hands found George’s waist, pulling him close. George wrapped his arms around Clay’s neck, trying to be as close as he could without it being too… weird. 

George knew people were staring, whether it was at him or Clay, the prince couldn’t give a damn. This moment right here, the two of them staring into each other’s eyes, their body’s moving perfectly as the tune of the music echoed through the room, the subtle glances they would make at the other’s lips. This moment was the only thing that mattered, not the whispers, not the stares. Just George and Clay, in a moment of pure bliss. No one could touch them, not in this moment. A small smile twitches to life on Clay’s lips and George tilts his head in confusion. “What are you smiling about?” 

Clay’s smile grows a little more, a small, breathy laugh escaping his mouth. “Do you remember your sixteenth birthday? When your dad was trying to marry you off to every girl he could find and you got so mad that you just ran off?” 

George stared up at Clay in shock. “I- I didn’t think you remembered that night. I was actually thinking about it today too, though. That night was awful…”

Clay scoffs. “It wasn’t all awful. Remember after he cut your eyebrow?” Clay moved one of his hands from George’s waist, his finger lightly tracing over the scar. George didn’t flinch under his touch. “Well, after that, do you remember what happened?” The two swayed around the ballroom, blissfully unaware of everyone and everything around them. George furrowed his brow, slightly shaking his head. Clay rolls his eyes. “You ran off back to the ballroom. Everyone else had left, but I was there.” A smile appears on Clay’s face as he recalls the memory. “And you looked so scared, and upset, and I remember how bad I felt. So I took you to the kitchen, and the cooks made us a bunch of cupcakes that we took to the top of the castle and ate together. Do you remember that?”

George shut his eyes, trying his best to remember this moment. Faint recollections of the night began to pop into his head, but nothing specific like the details Clay was recalling. “I-I don’t remember. How do you remember and I don’t?” 

Clay laughed. “Because you were shitfaced. Apparently someone found the wine cellar when we were in the kitchen, you took a bottle of red wine and single handedly drank the whole thing.” Clay shakes his head slightly, laughter pouring out of his mouth.

“WHAT? Oh come on! I couldn’t have. That’s so…”

“Unlike you? Yeah, I know. But back to MY version of the night, since you’re clearly not the one to recall this properly.” George scoffs, but doesn’t argue. “It was dark out when we got to the castle top, and we were just sitting there, watching the stars. There was a meteor shower, and I’ll never be able to forget the way your face lit up as you watched the stars. It was so… magical.” Clay’s face begins to turn sad. “Sometimes I regret leaving you to go to war. I could have stayed here, protected you from the walls of the castle instead of leaving you alone for five years.” A deep sigh releases from his throat. “We missed so many more memories, and I’ll forever regret that. But trust me when I say this.” Clay leans down so that his lips brush against George’s ear, a sharp chill running throughout the shorter boy’s body. “I fully intend on making up for all the lost time.” Clay puts a finger under George’s chin, tilting his head up and grinning. “We’re gonna have so much fun together.”

George tries to ignore the sharp feeling that was brewing in his stomach. Why was Clay being like this? Bringing back so many memories and feelings… it had taken George months to get over losing his best friend. Clay being back in his life again was so… overwhelming. GOD why did he have to be so beautiful? Without thinking about it, George traced his finger across Clay’s jaw, his thumb ghosting over the taller boy’s lips and earning a gasp from Clay. The noise was unexpected to both of them, and they made eye contact once more. This time was different than the rest of the night, though. Different because there was this… look in Clay’s eyes. It had been the same look that George had seen earlier, when they had been in the bedroom. God I can’t just say that… in the bedroom. Makes it seem like we were.. Doing stuff. Not that I didn’t wish we had been doing stuff… Wait what? Did that thought actually just go through George’s head? 

George tried to turn his head away from Clay, a prominent blush staining his cheeks at this point, but Clay just turned his head right back to face him. His eyes flick down to George’s lips, then move back to his eyes in a quick flash that George almost missed. The two had been swaying for what felt like ages, neither of them daring to break the moment. George didn’t even care that he was probably being rude in ignoring the other nobles and councilmen, all that mattered was this. George you idiot. You’re the king, you HAVE to care about everyone else, that’s like, the whole point of being king. Pull away, make a toast or something. You’re probably insulting everyone right now by not interacting with everyone else here. George hated his inner thoughts for being so right, because George knew that if he didn’t pull away now, he would be unable to ever let go. Clay, however, had different plans, which were made evident when the taller boy moved to close the gap between the two of them, causing George to fall back a little. “Clay, what are you doing?” 

The song was coming to an end, causing George to drop his arms. Clay looked at George with confusion flooding his eyes. “I- I don’t know. I guess I just-” Clay’s hands dropped from George’s waist, and the prince hated that he missed the warmth of them. “I guess I misread that situation. I- I have to go.”

George’s face immediately turns regretful. “No, Clay, don’t go, I just-”

“Your highness, it would be a good time for a toast, right now. To honor the war heros.” A voice cut through their conversation, and George looked to see Wilbur. 

Clay looked at George with a sad look. “It’s fine.” He paused, looking at Wilbur and then back to George. “I’ll see you later, your majesty.” 

And then he left, leaving George feeling more alone than ever. 

What the fuck was happening.


	3. Midnight Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small smile danced on the prince’s lips as he continued. “I wished that you would kiss me. A stupid wish, I know, considering that I was drunk and upset, but all I wanted in that moment was to feel your lips on mine, your fingers in my hair; I wanted to experience it so bad but I- I never could bring myself to admit it.” 
> 
> George turned, smiling when he saw that Clay was staring at him with a shocked expression. “W-what? Why would you want that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***NSFW***
> 
> this is the longest chapter I've ever written so... enjoy!

**T** he rest of the ball went smoothly, despite the unbearable sadness that George felt all throughout his body. He had given a toast about the bravery of the knights who fought, he spoke a little of his father, about the future of L’Manburg. But it was all fading away with the mind numbing pain of what had just happened with Clay. Since he was the future king, George had stayed until the end of the ball, making sure all of the guests were escorted out safely. It was dark out by the time everyone had left, the empty ballroom a sad reminder of the hurt look on Clay’s face when George had turned away from Clay’s advance. _What did he expect to happen! We were in the middle of all of the nobles, all of my father’s advisors. I couldn’t have just kissed him, it would have been irresponsible a-and wrong!_ George’s inner thoughts were speeding quickly through his head, trying to rationalize his decisions. _I need some fresh air. Yeah, that will help._ Giving a slight shake of his head, the prince began to walk down the empty corridors, not really looking for anywhere in particular to go to.

After what felt like hours of wandering, George somehow found himself on the very rooftop in which he and Clay had sat atop of all those years ago. A goofy smile made its way onto George’s face as the prince made his way to the lone silhouette that sat on the edge, outlined by the dark blue hues of the night sky and the brilliant white light that the moon gave off. The figure was swinging its long legs back and forth, their head tilted upwards towards the speckled sky in wonder as they took in the endless view that lay above them.

_Clay._

George made slow steps towards the lone knight, taking a seat next to him and staring at the sky. “Hey there, stranger.” When George got no response, a heavy sigh fell from the prince’s lips. “You know I was lying earlier. When you asked me if I remembered the last time we were here?” George turned to look at Clay, but his head was focused on something that was apparently very interesting on his shoe. “I did remember. I was just… too embarrassed to admit it. For some reason, I can’t control the things that come out of my mouth when I’m around you, Dream.” Moving his head back to face the stars, George took in a deep breath of air. “It was a night a lot like this, but it was a lot colder since it had been autumn the last time we were up here. We sat just like this, except I was still taller than you back then. I remember the meteor shower, I remember staring at them and making a wish, making as many wishes as I could. Do you know what I wished for, Dream?” George looked once more to his friend, who was surprised to see that the knight had lifted his head and was shaking it with a small, unspoken, ‘no.’ A small smile danced on the prince’s lips as he continued. “I wished that you would kiss me. A stupid wish, I know, considering that I was drunk and upset, but all I wanted in that moment was to feel your lips on mine, your fingers in my hair; I wanted to experience it so bad but I- I never could bring myself to admit it.” 

George turned, smiling when he saw that Clay was staring at him with a shocked expression. “W-what? Why would you want that?” Clay’s words were stuttered and slightly raspy, his voice low and filled with emotion.

George rolled his eyes. “You idiot. Why do you think?” He cupped Clay’s cheek, brushing the dried tears off of his face. “I-I’m in love with you. And maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I really want to think that you’re in love with me too, Clay. And I guess… I’ve always felt that way about you. And that night, I had just been suffocated with so many expectations and my father was-” George winced. “Well, you know what my father was doing. You’ve always been the only person I felt safe with, and that night, under the stars, just me and you. All I wanted was you. All I’ve ever wanted is you, Clay.” 

The two sat there, the moonlight illuminating their faces brightly as the stars glimmered like a spilled tube of sparkles in the sky. George’s warm brown eyes moved quickly to Clay’s lips, and then back to his eyes, hoping and praying that Clay was taking the hint. Clay’s tongue slipped out of his mouth, slowly moving it over his bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth. “How do I know that this is real, George? That you’re real, that you actually want this. H-How do I know that you won’t just leave me like you did at the ball?” A huff escapes Clay’s lips, the knight abruptly standing up and pacing the castle’s rooftop. 

_No no no no NO! This was not how this was supposed to happen!_ George stands up, making his way to Clay and forcing the taller boy to still. The knight looked at George with wild eyes, as if he was fighting a battle in his own head. “Fuck it.” Without wasting another second, Clay pulled George against him, their lips crashing together in a perfect symphony of built up tension that had been brewing for decades. George’s arms flew to wrap around Clay’s neck, his fingers tangling in the knight’s soft hair and desperately trying to pull the taller boy closer to him. A groan escapes Clay’s throat, the two stumbling on the roof until Clay’s back hits a wall. Upon their new position, the knight pulls George up so that his legs are wrapped around Clay’s waist, flipping the two so that George was the one who was pinned against the smooth, brick wall. Their lips moved together as if they were made for each other, it was desperate and hungry and George loved every second of it. 

Clay’s lips move from George’s, causing an involuntary whimper to escape George’s mouth, but it is quickly silenced when they reattach themselves to George’s neck. A soft moan releases itself from George’s mouth as he lolled his head to the side to allow for more access, leading Clay to bite down slightly on the prince’s neck and suck at the skin there. When he was satisfied with his work, Clay pulled away with a smirk on his lips, hovering his face over George’s and biting his lip. “God damnit, George. We really should have done this sooner.” 

George rolled his eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.” Clay happily obliged, his lips returning to George’s in a heartbeat, the two of them slowly melting into the other’s presence. The feeling of something soft causes George to open his eyes, being taken aback when he realizes they were in the prince’s chambers. _How did we get here? We were just outside a minute ago, my chambers are a good distance away from the rooftop…_

Clay laughs. “Oh come on now, stop thinking so much and let's get back to that other thing, right?” He leans back down to kiss George, but the prince moves away, getting out of the bed. 

“This isn’t real. I-” His voice breaks. “It’s a dream. This is all a dream.” Sadness laces his words and all George wanted was for Clay to say that George was wrong, that all of this was real and that this was actually happening.

Clay lets out a sad sigh. “I wish it was happening, too.” He takes a step towards George, his big hands tracing the prince’s jaw before he leans in close to his ear. “Maybe if you had let me kiss you at the ball, it would have been real.” 

~~~~~~~~~

A loud gasp emits from where the prince now sat, alone in his bed, sweat drenching his pajamas and his bedsheets, his hair sticky and poking out all over the place. George’s breathing was heavy as he ran his fingers through the hot mess that was his hair, bringing his fingers down to trace the places where Clay had sucked in the dream. _Fuck, fucking SHIT._

It was the second night in a row that the dream had made a reappearance, and after the restless night of sleep the prince had gotten the first night the dream had taken its form, George was determined to try and get back to sleep. After all, today was the day. Today was the day that George would take over L’Manburg as king. 

It had to be about three in the morning; the sun had not yet begun to rise and George was sure that none of his guards or advisors were awake at this hour. Slowly, the prince crept out of bed, walking into the bathroom that connected to his room and beginning to run the water in his bathtub. He shook off his pajamas, testing the water before adding some bubbles and sinking completely into the tub. The water was calming, but the feeling of Clay’s hot breath on his neck still lingered, the way George could still feel the way Clay’s hair felt as the prince had grasped on to it, the softness of Clay’s lips against his in the hungry kiss that George wished had been real. A hard afterthought of the memory began building in the prince’s nether areas, and a bright blush ran across George’s cheeks. _I can’t… it’s one thing to THINK about Clay like that but to touch myself to it? I mean… no one would even know if it did, and I am royalty… what can they do about it if I get caught? Which I won’t, so there’s no point in not doing it._ George cringed at his thoughts. What was he thinking? Touching himself to his best friend who he hadn’t even spoken to since the knight had run off at the ball? It was wrong! George’s hand brushed over himself, a shiver of pleasure running down his body and a small groan escaping his lips. The memory of Clay pinning him down on his bed, the pure lust and desire that had turned the knight’s usually bright eyes dark. The way that Clay had tried to cover his arousal with a pillow but never stopped staring at George, the way Clay’s lip always seemed to find its way between his teeth. _Fuck it._ George began to stroke himself, his eyes shutting and his head falling back onto the tub as the thought of Clay consumed the prince’s thoughts. Whether it was how when Clay said, “your majesty,” his voice dropped an octave, or how the shirts he wore always seemed to be so form fitting, all that George could think about was Clay. 

_Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay, Clay._ George repeated it like a mantra in his head, shameless moans flying from his throat as George’s hand picked up its pace. Clay’s hands, Clay’s muscular build, Clay’s stupid, soft hair. His dream came flooding back to him, the way that Clay had hoisted him up around his hips, the friction that was made as Clay had pressed himself closer and closer to George. The heavy breaths that fell from the knight’s lips, the groans and grunts that made George squirm. _“We’re going to have so much fun together,”_ Clay had said in the dream, his voice somehow being smooth as silk while also being rough and raspy. 

“FUCK, Clay!” The scream fell out of George’s lips as the prince finished, his body falling limp against the cold tile of the bathtub. George sat there for a few more minutes, trying to process what he had just done. _I cannot fucking believe I did that… I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE I DID THAT! How am I going to look at him in the eyes? He’ll be at my coronation tomorrow, I’ll have to look him in the eyes… Fuck, no, don’t think about his eyes, I can’t do that again._ Trying to ignore his thoughts, George got out of the tub, draining the water and staring as it spiraled down the drain. _That was an awful idea, George. Why the FUCK did that happen?_ George quickly gathered a new pair of pajamas, sliding them over his body and staring at his reflection. His skin is flush and his pupils are dilated, his hair wet and sticking to his forehead awkwardly. The prince ran to his bed, jumping underneath his covers and praying to God that no one had heard any of that.

_Fucking shit._ George thought. _I’m so fucked._

~~~~~~

Clay paced around his room, repeatedly running his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. Why the FUCK had he stormed off like that at the ball? Clay would never forget the hurt expression that lingered on his best friend’s face, but the knight was so caught up in his rage and confusion that he hadn’t cared. Clay avoided George the entirety of the next day, spending it with Sir Nick and Karl. The three knights had gone to a local pub, drinking and gambling all day until a girl had started hitting on Karl and the eldest knight abandoned his two friends. “Sorry fellas, but a man’s gotta do what a man has to do.” The pair had run off, and only God knows whatever the hell they did. 

The loss of their friend changed the atmosphere of Nick and Clay, and Nick picked up on it immediately. “Hey, are you okay? You’ve kind of seemed really off all night.” Of course he had picked up on it. The two had fought side by side in the war; such a thing bonds two people beyond comprehension. Nick knew Clay better than anyone… well, mostly everyone. 

Clay let out a dramatic sigh, his head banging on to the table. “I tried to kiss George at the ball.” 

Nick’s face lit up. “That’s great! I knew that you guys would work it out, I mean, after what I saw when I caught you guys in his chambers, I only assumed it would be a matter of time before-”

“No, no you don’t understand, Nick. I TRIED to kiss him, meaning that it was unsuccessful. God, you should have seen the way he looked at me. It was like he wanted nothing to do with me! Like, like I was revolting, or something! I mean I- I guess I just read it wrong.” The blonde knight slammed his head on the table a couple more times, causing a few people to look over at them. Nick glared at them, causing them to look away quickly. “I guess I’ll just give up, there’s no point in chasing him if he doesn’t even fucking like me.” A miserable groan escapes his throat as Clay lifts his head up to look at Nick, who had a sympathetic look on his face. “I’m such an idiot.”

Nick’s brows furrow. “Hey! Don’t say that, Clay.” He places a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. Just… try to think about it from his perspective! I mean, you were dancing together in front of the entire royal court; people who George has grown up with his entire life, and then all of a sudden, you come in and try to kiss him? I mean, it’s totally not cool that he just rejected you, but it would have been pretty bad if he had.” Clay rolls his eyes and Nick sighs. “You know I’m right, Clay. It was such a public place, George probably was just overwhelmed! It’s his coronation in two days, and that was the first ball he’s thrown now that the king is dead.”

Clay knew that everything Nick was saying made sense, but it still didn’t make him feel any better. “I hate you.”

Nick let out a loud laugh. “Yeah okay, Clay. I love you too, buddy.” 

The pair had made their way back to the castle, going to their respective chambers and promptly passing the fuck out. Hey, Clay had spent all night drinking! What did you expect? The next morning, however, the knight woke up with a pounding headache that made Clay groan loudly and bury himself under the covers. “RISE AND SHINE SLEEPY HEAD!” A loud voice exclaims, causing Clay to bolt up and glare at the culprit. Karl. 

“Karl if you don’t shut up right now, I swear to fucking God-”

“Hey! Don’t talk to my fiancè like that!” Nick interrupted, his tone playful as he wrapped his arms around Karl. The two had a joke that Karl and Nick were engaged which was made during the war after a particularly close battle that had resulted in the near death of Karl. The two promised that just in case something happened to them, they would say they were engaged so that the other could weep dramatically at the funeral. Kind of dark, but everyone made it out alive so it was all fun and games, now. 

Clay released another groan, forcing himself back under the covers and away from the harsh morning light. “How are you two so energetic? You drank just as much as I did last night.” The knight poke his head above the covers in time to see Nick roll his eyes.

“We took hangover potions.” Sir Nick threw it at Clay, who quickly reached his arm out and caught it, glaring at the youngest knight. 

“Be lucky my reflexes are so good, asshole.” Nick scoffs as Clay downs the potion, wincing slightly at the putrid taste. “That never gets any easier.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. Now come on, let's get ready. Only one more day until your boyfriend’s coronation!” Karl exclaims, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. 

Clay throws a pillow at them. “Get out!” Clay’s tone is joking, a small laugh escaping his throat as the two stumble out of the room, clutching their stomachs as they laugh their way out. 

Their day is somewhat uneventful in comparison to their previous night out, the three boys walking around the castle finding things to do. Everyone was busy setting up for the big day tomorrow, and Clay found himself wracked with guilt over being on bad terms with George still. Not talking to his friend had made for a shitty time, and all Clay wanted to do was knock on George’s door and beg for forgiveness. Clay knew that he couldn’t, though. If the knight saw George again, Clay knew that all the feelings of heartbreak and betrayal would come rushing back to the surface, and the knight didn’t trust himself to not break down and cry on the spot. George’s rejection had hurt, even though it hadn’t even been a verbal one. Sure, Clay regretted making a move in a public place, but George could have handled it a tad better! _You’re just upset that now that George is king, he’ll forget about you and find new ways to rid you from his life._ Clay flinched at his own thoughts. They were true, Clay was terrified of what would happen when George was officially crowned king. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that George would take on a lot more responsibility after he became king, but it didn’t numb the dark thoughts that constantly flooded the knight’s brain. 

~~~~~~~~~

After hours and hours of wandering throughout the castle, the boys grew bored, retiring to their chambers with a wave and a middle finger from Nick which Clay reciprocated with a grin. Clay flopped down on the bed, suddenly being hit by a wave of fatigue. He looked out the window, realizing how late it had gotten and sighing. _A few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt, after all, you’ll need all the strength you can get in order to face George tomorrow._ The knight’s eyes fluttered shut, Clay falling into a deep sleep.

A few hours past when he is abruptly woken up by a cold blast of air, Clay’s eyes shooting open in aggravation as he stands up and latches the open window shut. “Stupid fucking window.” He murmurs to himself. Flopping back on to the bed, Clay finds that he is unable to fall back to sleep and a sigh escapes his lips. _What if we went to see George? It’s so late, though… he’s probably not even up….. But what if he is?_ Getting back out of the bed, Clay grabs a robe and wraps it over his body to keep warm, quietly opening the doors to his room and making his way to where George’s chambers were. On arrival of the wide doors, Clay hesitated. Did he just walk in? Did he knock? _If you knock and he’s asleep, you’ll surely wake him up and then you’ll have to deal with the awkwardness of being caught here. Just go in, worst case scenario, he sees you and kicks you out. Come on, Clay, just go in!_

Taking a deep breath, Clay slowly pushes the door open, surprised to see George’s empty bed and a soft glow of candle light glowing from the area of his bathroom. Tilting his head in confusion, the knight carefully made his way closer to the bathroom, only to freeze in his tracks when he heard soft moans echoing through the air. No. Fucking. Way. Trying to ignore the firm sensation pressing against his pants, Clay stood there in the middle of George’s room, desperately clinging onto the sounds filling the room. _Fuck this is so wrong, just get out of here, this was a mistake, Clay. Leave while you can and forget about this._ Clay really wished that he listened to the rational part of his brain, that he listened to every single bone in his body telling him to get out of there. But he couldn’t move. All he could do was shut his eyes and allow his jaw to fall open, his head tilting back and his hands moving to undo his pants. _Just be quiet. He’ll never even know you were here._

Yes, Clay felt awful doing this, but hearing George sounded so… desperate and lustful made the knight’s entire being fill up to the brim with desire. He wondered who George was thinking of, if anyone. God, did he wish it was him, he wanted George to crave Clay’s lips against his, George’s fingers in his hair, his mouth parted and his eyes squeezed shut. A low groan escaped Clay’s throat as he freed himself from the tight constricts of his pants, his hands slowly beginning to pump as George’s moans continued to echo. “God, Clay, YES!” Wait what? Clay’s eyes shoot open, his strokes quickening at the mention of his name falling from George’s mouth. From the way the prince’s breath had turned heavy and quick, Clay knew that George was close and all the knight wanted to do was go in there and show him what he was doing to Clay, show him how his moans made Clay fall apart at the seams. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It was a mantra falling out of George’s mouth, the prince’s breaths becoming labored. 

All Clay wanted was to see him, to be able to look at George fall apart. _He’s thinking of you. What you’d do to him, the way you’d touch him, the way you’d fuck him._ Clay let out a groan, hoping that George didn’t hear it. In a moment of bravery, Clay took a step closer to the bathroom, inhaling sharply when he came to the discovery that there was a mirror that put George on display perfectly. _Holy fucking shit._ George was a mess, his cheeks flushed, sweat dripping down his forehead in delicate drops. His head was draped on the edge of the tub he layed in, his eyes shut as profanities and moans spewed from his lips. And his hands… even though they were submerged, the water splashed violently as George quickened his pace around his dick. It was so much to take in, almost enough to- “FUCK, Clay!” _And THAT’S enough._ Clay finished in his hand, a heavy breath falling from his lips as he watched George fall apart in the water. _It should be illegal to look like that while not even trying, I swear I’m about to go into fucking cardiac arrest._ George sat in the tub for a few seconds, his chest heaving roughly before he lifted his head up and began to get out of the tub. _Wait, he’s getting out of the tub… CLAY get the FUCK out of there you moron._

Panic set in quickly throughout Clay’s body as he rushed to shove himself back into his pants, trying to be quiet as he ran out the doors to George’s chambers and back to his own. When Clay finally got to his room, he shut the doors firmly before sinking to the ground, his fingers running through his sticky hair before he let his head fall into his hands. _Why the hell did I do that… why the HELL did I do that?_ Clay hit himself in the head a couple of times. _God, Clay, you’re going to have to SEE him in less than twelve hours, you dumbass! You’re going to have to see him and act like you didn’t just fucking catch him jacking himself off to the thought of you. Actually, lets not think about that again, LETS NOT THINK ABOUT THAT AGAIN._ Clay took a deep breath, slowly standing up and stripping his pants off, leaving him in a long, white shirt which he promptly unbuttoned and a pair of underpants. The knight flopped on top of his covers, letting out a frustrated scream into his pillows before staring up at his bed’s canopy. Tomorrow would be a very eventful day, for a lot more than one reason. 

Fuck.

  
  



	4. The Coronation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And as mass amounts of red rose petals flew from the ceiling, as the church bells rang loud and clear throughout the castle, as the applause from everyone flooded through George’s ears, it was the first time that he finally felt ready. 
> 
> The prince is dead. Long live King George.

**W** aking up five hours after one of the most emotionally draining nights you’d ever experienced only to remember that you would be taking over an entire country was not the finest way that George had wanted to go about his coronation day, but here he was. The bright sun leaked in glowing rays through the cracks in George’s chamber walls, causing the prince to rub his eyes and groan. Today was the day, today was the day that George would become king. 

The thought was still terrifying to him, and the only person he wanted to talk to it about was Clay, but the idea of facing the knight after what George had done last night lingered in the back of his head. Of course George knew that he would see Clay at the ceremony, but George was keen on steering clear of the knight until he was sure all the feelings and desires that the prince felt towards Clay had vanished. Clay was George’s best friend, and if the distractions that continued to flood his thoughts remained in the prince’s head, George knew that he wouldn’t be able to focus on being a good king. He had seen his father rule, and he had seen what had risen out of King Schlatt’s reign. George had to focus on defeating the rebels, and he knew that he would be unable to do so if the only thing he could think of was Clay. 

Advisors checked in regularly to make sure George was properly taken care of for the big day, presenting him with the same robes that his father had worn on his coronation. They dressed him in the sleek, velvet black robes, hanging the crest of L’Manburg around his neck and making sure the prince looked perfect for his crowning. After they left, George looked in the mirror and found it hard to believe that the person who stared back was him. There was a light stubble under his chin, his hair was beginning to grow a bit longer in the back. His eyes look mature, as if the childlike innocence that George had attempted to keep had finally fled his body, leaving a new man in front of him. A king. Sliding a few rings onto his fingers and adjusting his shirt, George took a deep breath. Today was the day. 

A soft knock on the door jumps George out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking to where the knock had come from. “Who is it?” He asks timidly.  _ If it’s more people trying to get me ready, just jump out the window and make a run for it. It’s not too far of a drop.  _ George winced at his thoughts. 

“I-it’s Clay. Do you mind if I come in?” Scratch that, George was giving into his thoughts. He'd rather deal with five more hours of pampering than face Clay right now, GOD this was the worst possible thing to happen right now… “If you don’t want to see me, just say it and I can go.” Clay’s voice is cold, but George can hear the faintest bit of sadness tinging the knights words. 

_ If you let him in, you’ll regret it. But if you don’t let him in, you’ll be overthinking about how stressful being king is going to be and you might suffocate from all the pressure.  _ Neither were good options. George gulped. “You can come in.” 

The doors opened slightly, Clay sneaking through and closing them behind him. He looked around the room and swallowed harshly, eventually bringing his eyes to meet George’s. God damnit, those eyes… “I feel bad that I haven’t talked to you. I know that things at the ball were… rough, but it was foolish. I- I don’t know what I was thinking.” The knight runs his fingers through his hair and George has to stop himself from letting out a strangled moan as his thoughts were brought back to his activities last night.  _ This was an awful idea. _

George’s brain short circuits, all coherent thoughts leaving his head now that Clay was standing in front of him. His scent was intoxicating and overwhelming, George taking an unconscious whiff of it and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Clay, I- I wanted to apologize for my actions the other night.” The brunet let out a small laugh and shook his head. “You’re my best friend, and I guess it was all so overwhelming? I mean you come back after five years and start acting… differently and you’re all hot and tall and my coronation is today and I- I didn’t know what to do.” George tried to ignore the slight smirk that formed on Clay’s lips upon hearing that George had called him hot, the prince rolling his eyes and slightly smacking Clay’s shoulder. “I guess what I’m trying to say, Clay, is that you mean so much to me. More than anyone ever will mean to me. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been there for my entire life and I am so blessed for that, don’t get me wrong. But I’m going to be king. And as much as I wished we could just fool around like we did when we were children, we can’t anymore.”

Clay’s eyes turned sad, a sigh escaping his lips. “So you don’t want to be friends? I mean, I guess I get it, I guess I just never thought-”

“No you idiot.” George let out a small laugh. “Of course I still want you to be my friend. I’m trying to say that ‘friends’ is the only thing we can be. No more almost kissing, okay? Your friendship means the world to me, and if something were to happen to ruin it I- I don’t think I could live with myself.” George tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Can we do that, Dream?”

At the mention of the knight’s nickname, a wide smile erupts on Clay’s face. “Of course. I don’t know what I’d do, either.” The two sit in a small silence before Clay interrupts it again. “Can I give you a hug? It’s okay if you think it’s weird, I just really missed you these past couple days and I just thought-”

George cuts him off by flinging his arms around the taller man’s waist, pulling him close to him. Clay sighed in relief, wrapping his arms tightly around George and giving him a firm squeeze. “I missed you too, Dream.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was finally time. Clay and George had spoken for a couple more minutes before Wilbur had come into the room to inform him that they were ready for him. The three men had walked together towards the throne room, George unable to stop shaking.  _ I can’t do this, I’m going to be a failure and I’m going to let everyone down, is it too late to find that window? Oh God, oh God, oh-  _ George’s thoughts are interrupted by the sudden grasp of his hand, the prince looking to see Clay staring at George with worried eyes. “Are you okay? You look paler than usual.” They all come to a stop, Wilbur turning around in confusion. 

George shook his head to signify ‘no,’ causing Wilbur to look at the prince sympathetically. “I can go up ahead, if you need a few minutes I can just say that you’re paying respect to King Schlatt.”

The prince nodded quickly and Clay gave Wilbur a thankful smile. The councilman smiled in return, continuing his walk down the corridor. Clay crouched down, concern filling his eyes as he looked at his friend. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong, George.”

Tears began to well in George’s eyes, a sniff escaping. “Clay, I can’t do this. I-I just can’t d-do it. E-Everyone is expecting me to be this, this great king who is going to lead L’Manburg to greatness and they’re expecting me to deal with T-Technoblade and all this other stuff and I- I just don’t know if I can do it.” As the tears fell down George’s face, the prince fell with them, collapsing to the floor. “Dream I’m so scared. I’m so, so scared and I- don’t know what to do, I-”

“George!” Clay’s hands cup George’s face, bringing it up so that the two were looking at each other. The knight wipes the tears that were still falling down his face, his touch soft and caring. “You are amazing, okay? You’re so amazing, and you're kind, and strong, and passionate. You constantly leave me speechless sometimes with how much you care about the people you love, and THAT is what’s going to make you a great king.”

George sniffs again, a distorted version of a laugh falling from his throat. “Y-you don’t have to make this up. I know I’m not ready, I know I’m not enough. God I can’t believe I actually thought I could be king, father always said-”

  
“I’m serious, George, stop right now. I’m not making this up, and I’m not saying it just to make you feel better.” 

“Clay it’s okay, you can say that I’m a failure. All I’m going to do is mess it up, like how messed us up at the ball. God I’m so stupid, it would be better if I were de-”

“STOP IT!” Clay’s eyes were filled with fury and sadness, his grasp on George’s face tightening. “God, I’m sick of hearing you say this shit, George. Why are you the only one who can’t see how amazing you are, it’s so utterly infuriating and I- I can’t deal with it anymore!” George sits there in shock, words catching in his throat. Clay huffs before continuing. “You can do this. You WILL do this, okay? I know you’re scared, and I know that I won’t be able to truly understand what it means to take on this responsibility, but I swore to protect the crown when I joined the knights, and that means I swore to protect you. So whether it’s from physical threats or whether it’s emotional, I will be there for you. Okay?” The knight’s grip loosens, but his hands never leave George’s face. “I’m never letting you go again, George. So no matter what you’re feeling, whether it’s sadness, or anger, or happiness, or-” Clay gulped. “Or lust, or anything in between, I want you to tell me. It’s my responsibility to take care of and protect the crown, and I fully intend on living up to my vow until the day I die.”

George took a shaky breath. “D-do you really mean that? You’re not just saying that?”

Clay’s eyes turned soft. “I would never lie to you, George.” 

The two sat there in a comfortable silence, their eyes locked on each other as if they were the only things that mattered in the world. But they weren’t and both of them knew it. George released a heavy sigh, wiping his tears from his face and standing up, Clay rising with him. “Okay, I’m ready.” George’s hand found Clay’s grasping it tight and giving the knight a smile. “I’m ready to become king.”

~~~~~~~~~

The pair make their way to the extravagant doors that lead into the throne room and pause. Their hands were still clasped tightly, they had been the entire walk down the brightly decorated corridors. Clay looked at George timidly, releasing his hand. “Rember, I’m always here for you. You have nothing to worry about George.”

George took a deep breath in, turning to Clay and encasing him in a tight hug. The knight reciprocated, leaning his cheek on top of the shorter boy's head. “Thank you, Clay.” As they released from their embrace, George turned to the guards waiting outside the doors. “I’m ready.” The doors swing open in a grand motion, and everyone waiting inside turned to face the two boys. George swallowed thickly. “Clay I’m scared.” He whispered.

Clay rolled his eyes. “You’ll never have to be scared when I’m here with you. Now go, get your crown.”

The descent down the aisle is painful, the nobles that filled the room all gawking at George. And yet, George does not feel afraid anymore. He does not feel afraid when he reaches the end of the aisle, he does not feel afraid as he kneels in front of the priest. He doesn’t feel afraid as the crown is slowly lowered down onto his head, finalizing his fate as king, sealing his future. He does not feel afraid as he rises from the ground, making his way over to his throne and sitting, his robe pooling around him and his head held high. And it was all because when George looked into the swarm of councilmen and nobles, the guards and knights, none of it mattered as he looked at Clay. Clay, George’s literal knight in shining armor, his savior, his Dream, who stood there with the proudest smile you could imagine. 

“Long live the king!” The crowd echoed out, but George could hardly hear any of them. All he could hear was Clay, and it was all he wanted to hear.  _ Nothing can take you down if you have him with you. With Clay, you are unbelievable, you are a king. Yeah, I am the king.  _

And as mass amounts of red rose petals flew from the ceiling, as the church bells rang loud and clear throughout the castle, as the applause from everyone flooded through George’s ears, it was the first time that he finally felt ready. 

The prince is dead. Long live King George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the coronation scene based off of Francis and Mary's coronation in the show Reign. There was really cool music in the background of the scene and it was fueling me :)


	5. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A loud bang sounds out throughout the throne room, a member of the royal guard standing in the doorway with a wild look in his eyes. “My king! My king, we’ve caught one of Technoblade’s key associates!” 
> 
> The room is silent, a stern look falling across George’s face. “Bring me to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier 10 times on repeat while writing this chapter. If you're interested in my writing music, my Spotify is _katwatkins_ and I listen to the playlist called "heat waves" (yes as in THE heat waves), it would be super cool if you checked it out!! Enjoy chapter five!!

**A** wide smile spread across George’s lips as Clay ran up to him, scooped him up, and swung him around in the air before pulling George into a tight hug. “See? That wasn’t so bad now, was it your majesty?” Clay’s voice is low, sending shivers throughout George’s body. The warm smile on his face causes a hot flash of blood to run to his cheeks, but George couldn’t care less. 

“I don’t think I’ve been this happy in my entire life, Dream.”

“Good. You deserve this, you deserve all of this.” Clay’s perfect teeth shone brightly in the sun filled room, and George can’t help but admire how beautiful the knight looks. Rose petals laid daintily in the midst of Clay’s hair, a few of them decorating the sleeves on his shirt. George didn’t think he’d ever be able to get over how truly adorable Clay’s smile was; the way that it lit up the darkest of rooms, the way his dimples made an appearance, the way that it filled George up with the most warm and comforting feeling inside. Clay’s freckles seemed to be more prominent today, and George loved how they formed cute little patterns on his face. The knight looked truly ethereal in this moment, standing tall and proud as he stood in the way of where the sun was shining through. The sun created a halo of sun that illuminated Clay’s hair, seemingly making it glow.  _ I don’t think I could ever get bored looking at him…  _

George let out a sigh, looking over Clay’s shoulder to see Sir Nick and Karl coming over. The pair bowed, raising up with bright smiles on their faces. “Your majesty, congratulations.” Sir Nick’s voice was light and full of happiness, making George swell with warmth. 

“Thank you, Sir Nick. If it weren’t for you and your service fighting for this nation, I wouldn’t even have a country to rule over.” An idea pops into his head, causing a smile to spread over George’s lips. “Which is why I would like to officially offer you positions to serve as a part of the royal guard. You’d be paid a grand salary, and you would be able to continue residing in the castle. It also comes with great respect, which is what you deserve.”

The knight’s smiles grow even bigger, Sir Karl practically radiating happiness. “That is a great honor, my king. It would be our pleasure.” The four men continued talking, laughing and joking around. Everything in this moment was perfect, and George didn’t want it to end. But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. 

A loud bang sounds out throughout the throne room, a member of the royal guard standing in the doorway with a wild look in his eyes. “My king! My king, we’ve caught one of Technoblade’s key associates!” 

The room is silent, a stern look falling across George’s face. “Bring me to him.”

A worried look crosses over Clay’s face, the taller boy softly grabbing George’s shoulder and turning the king to face him. “George are you sure? You said it yourself, these men are dangerous. I encountered them first hand, and it wasn’t an easy fight.”

George’s eyes go soft. “Don’t worry, Clay. As a matter of fact.” the king looks at his newly appointed royal guardsmen. “You can all come with me!” He turned back to Clay. “Does that make you feel better?” Clay let out a small murmur which George took as a ‘yes,’ the sensation of victory filling his body. 

They set off to the dungeons, swinging to doors to the cell open to reveal- “What? This is the rebel?” Clay let out a scoff. “There has to be a mistake, he’s a child!”

What Clay had said was true, for in front of them sat a thin, lengthy, blonde child. He wore a scowl on his face and glared harshly at Clay. “Oi, I’m not a fucking child, you bitch!”  _ Oh my lord, this child is so fucking loud…  _ The boy shook around in his shackles, being unable to move which only seemed to infuriate him more. “If I was out of these bloody chains, you’d see how much of a ‘child’ I was, big man.” 

Clay tried to hold back a laugh, but was unsuccessful, his tea kettle wheeze filling up the cell. “Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” 

The boy slowly redirected his gaze to George, a dangerous smirk filling his eyes. “Oh, your highness! Congrats on the coronation, I’d bow to show my respects but for one I’m a little tied up here and secondly, I couldn’t give a flying fuck.” 

A shocked look fell upon George’s face, not expecting to be spoken to with such harshness by someone who probably hadn’t even gone through puberty yet.  _ Okay that probably wasn’t true, but come on! This kid is so… small? How is he supposed to be one of the most dangerous people in this country?  _ George’s face quickly became stern, his eyes focusing in on the child’s bright blue ones. “You’re what, 15, 16? There’s no way that you’re one of Technoblade’s informants.” George was bluffing, hoping that the child’s ego was as big as his personality seemed. If George was right in his assumptions, he hoped that the child would spill something in a fit of rage, something that could benefit them in this struggle with the anarchist.

A scoff fell from the child’s lips. “Of course you’d think that. I’m the fucking man, you have no idea was me and Techno are capable of. We already have a plan to take you down, Gogy.”

George tried to suppress a disgusted look at the mention of the child’s nickname for him, continuing his strategy. “Uh huh, whatever you say, kiddo.” George turned to Sir Nick, who was standing in the corner with Sir Karl silently. “Sir Nick, do you mind going to get some sweets for this little guy here? You know how children get when they don’t have their sugars.” Upon looking at the confused look that fell over Sir Nick’s face, George sent him a wink, hoping that he would understand that George was trying to rile the child up. 

It seemed that it had worked, as Sir Nick’s confused look turned into a small smirk, nodding. “Come on Sir Karl, let’s go get some stuff for the little baby over here.” 

Karl frowned. “But I thought we were making sure King George was safe-”

“He has Clay! Plus, I’ll need help bringing it all down.” Sir Nick turned back to look at the prisoner, who sat there with a red face. “From the looks of it, this little guy looks like he LOVES candy, don’t you think?”

Sir Karl picked up on the situation in that moment, the realization washing over his face. “You’re so right, come on Nick, let's go.” 

The two boys set off, leaving just George, Clay, and the boy. This kid was fuming, his face was so incredibly red in rage that Geroge was a little afraid that he'd start smoking and blow up. However, he hadn’t spoken a word since George started talking to Sir Nick and Karl, which caused a small spark of hope to come to life. The three sit there in silence until another guard walks in, pulling Clay aside and whispering something that brings a large smirk onto the blond’s face. With a brief nod of thanks, the guard leaves and Clay comes back into the cell. “So, Mr. Thomas.”

The boy’s eyes snap up, shock filling his eyes. “What the fuck, how the hell do you know my name?” His closed off demeanor seemingly has left, allowing George to sit back and observe as Clay took charge. 

“Aw, come on Tommy, you didn’t think the spies we have in the village were THAT clueless, did you?” A faux look of sympathy crosses Clay’s face. “We’ve had scouts in your midst ever since the attack earlier this week, we know things, Tom.” The smirk returns to Clay’s face. “We even know about that underground base you have in the forests surrounding L”Manburg. How does that make you feel, hm?”

And then things got… weird. The boy, or Thomas, started to cry. It caught both George and Clay off guard, neither had expected this from the child. When he spoke, his voice was small. “Please, I-I didn’t choose to be a part of this. I- I’m doing it to protect someone, if I don’t work with the rebels, I’ll lose them.” Tears fell down his face and George couldn’t help but feel bad. “I don’t want to be a part of this rebellion, I only joined after my brother got killed in the war protecting it. Techno is very persuasive, he took advantage of how naive and young I was and used it to make me into a compelling advocate for his cause.” He paused, sniffing. “Things started off great. We never did anything too violent, just building our followers and trying to get support against the monarchy; you know shit like that. But then he started to show his true colors. The person I want to protect, his name is Toby, I call him Tubbo though. We’ve grown up together, he’s like my brother and no one means more to me than he does.” A small smile plays on his lips. “Toby found out that I was a part of the rebels, and he tried to convince me of the good that the monarchy does. He told me that if I got out, I would be able to come clean and not get in trouble.” Tommy shook his head. “I can’t believe I actually thought I could get out of it…”

George had been completely softened, squatting down and looking at the boy in the eyes. “You’re safe here. I promise you that. I am truly sorry about the passing of your brother, and that you got roped up in all of this. I- We want to help.” George looked up to his friend. “Sir Clay here is one of the best fighters and defenders I’ve met, and I trust him with my life.” The king gave Tommy a small smile. “Can you trust me, Tommy? Because if we build trust here, we can use that. If we get Technoblade by surprise, we can end this and you’ll finally be free. Doesn’t that sound nice?” George purposely was using a delicate voice, not wanting to be seen as an enemy. 

Tommy sniffed once more. “I- I want to help. It’s the least I owe you, after everything the movement I’ve been in has done…” He looked at George and the king’s heart shattered looking at how genuinely broken the boy looked. “I trust you. I’ll help try to take Techno down… but there’s a lot I have to say.”

“We know, and we’re here to listen.” The king gave the boy a soft smile. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy was released from the cell two days later and had been free in the castle for a week now. George had wanted to release him right then and there, but the advisors had insisted on making sure all of the information Tommy had given was accurate. George had made sure the boy had been comfortable, though. He made frequent visits throughout the day to bring Tommy extra food and would tell him stories of life in the castle and in return, Tommy would tell him of the adventures he had with his friend, Toby. 

George found it endearing how fondly Tommy spoke of this Toby, but it hurt his heart knowing that Technoblade was probably doing something awful now that Tommy was gone.

The day the boy got released, George made sure to show him everything around the castle. Watching Tommy’s big blue eyes light up in excitement as he walked around was truly wonderful to watch, and George’s heart swelled seeing the boy so happy. Clay had too started to grow fond of Tommy, George had seen them sparring in the fields on day and had paused to watch as the two fought. Watching Clay fight was mesmerizing, the way he moved like it was a dance, his movements fluid and careful. He never actually took jabs at Tommy, but he would tease the boy and would always come back into the castle with a large smile on his face, laughing with Tommy as if they had known each other for years. 

In the past week, George had also grown quite close to Sir Nick and Sir Karl. George found it easy to be around them, their presence calmed the king down when they were in meetings. There were multiple times where the men would sit in the dining hall and recount their stories, most of them being about Clay and the dumb shit he did. Now happened to be one of these times, the guardsmen and the king were sat around the wide table, holding back tears as Nick recounted a story from their time in the war. “It was ridiculous! He was just sitting there, in the middle of the bar, drunk off his ASS-” Nick paused, choking back laughter. “And he just starts SCREAMING at Karl, saying all this shit like how he was ‘gonna fuck the shit out of him if he didn’t stop looking so damn cute.’” 

Clay’s head was slamming repeatedly against the table as loud wheezes of embarrassment left his throat, his face bright red. “I couldn’t help it! I mean look at him, he’s so… loveable!”

Karl blushed. “Oh please, that’s all you my liege.” The man winked playfully at Clay, causing the blond’s blush to deepen. 

“KARL STOP!” He lightly hit Karl’s shoulder, causing laughs to erupt throughout the table. 

George wiped a tear from his eyes. “D-did I tell you guys about my 16th birthday? I got wasted after my father got angry at me, and Clay and I snuck up to the top of the castle and watched the stars and I remember watching as the stars flew overhead and being so upset and sad that I wished Clay would kiss me.” A chuckle escaped his lips, Karl and Nick following suit. But not Clay. 

His face was firm, his eyes finding George’s. “W-what did you just say?”  _ Fuck. FUCK! George you fucking idiot! Why the FUCK would you say that?  _ “At the ball, when we were dancing. You told me that you didn’t remember that night. R-right before I-” Clay turned away. “I-I need to go.”  _ Fuck fuck fuck FUCK! FUCK! _

“Clay, wait-” 

“Seriously, George. I- I have to go.” Clay practically ran away, leaving George and the other two knights shocked. 

The king turned his head to the men, words failing to come out of his mouth. “I- I have to-”

Nick nods his head. “It’s okay, George. Go, we’ll be fine.”

George gives them a firm smile, standing up and running after Clay. 

~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take him long to find the knight, George walking up to the top of the castle to see him sitting alone.  _ Just like your dream… Shut up brain, for fucks sake. _ Pushing aside his internal conflict, George sits. 

Clay’s face is dark, his eyes focused out on the fields that stretched in front of them. “How could you, George.”

George sighed. “Clay, please. I didn’t mean to lie, I just-”

“I’M SICK OF THESE EXCUSES!” Clay snaps, causing George to flinch. “I’m sick of it, George! You say that you don’t want to be with me romantically, but you dance with me at the ball. You say you don’t like me that way, but then you admit you wanted to kiss me. You say my friendship means everything to you, but then you just.. FUCK George! What are you doing to me?” He turns to look at George and the king’s heart breaks, the evident pain and anger overflowing in the tears that streamed down his face. “Please, just for once can you be fucking honest with me? I can’t fucking take the lies anymore, George, I- I can’t…” His eyes shut, more tears falling. 

George felt his heart sink. “Clay, I- I’m sorry.”

A broken laugh falls from the knight’s lips. “Oh, you’re sorry? That’s all you have to say!” He shook his head. “Not good enough. That’s not FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH!” His head fell back, his lips turned into an unreadable smile. “It’s not enough for you LEADING me on for our entire lives, ever since we were little kids! I mean I- I.” Clay paused, as if he was contemplating whether or not he wanted to continue. “I was in love with you! I- I still am in love with you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t love me back, because if you did, this wouldn’t be fucking happening.” Clay wiped the tears from his eyes, only for them to be immediately replaced. “I thought I could be friends with you, George, but being around you makes me so unbelievably confused and it just hurts! It physically and emotionally PAINS me to be around you, knowing that I’ll never be able to hold you, that I’ll never be able to hear you say ‘I love you’ and mean it, knowing that I’ll never be able to feel your lips against mine, that I’ll-”

Clay never gets to finish his sentence. For George had done the one thing that he knew would shut Clay up, the one thing that would ensure that Clay knew exactly how George was feeling right now.

George kissed Clay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT HAPPENED!! Thank you all for the support in the comments, it really fuels me to keep writing and I appreciate it a lot. Suggestions as to what you want to see next are welcome, but thank you for reading!!


	6. Meet me at the Rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay furrows his brow. “I don’t think I make you weak.” George scoffs, causing the younger boy to grasp George’s chin, forcing him to stare into the knight’s green eyes. Neither boy moved, Clay’s tongue slowly running over his lips before he brought his bottom lip between his teeth. He brushed his finger over George’s lips, causing the brunet to shiver. “You want to know what I think?” George gulped, nodding. “I think I make you strong. I think that you’re afraid of being vulnerable, because you don’t want to get hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!SLIGHT NSFW!!!!!
> 
> This is highly one of my favorite chapters oops

**_H_ ** _ oly fucking shit.  _ George’s thoughts were incapacitaed, the overwhelming feeling of Clay’s soft lips overcoming any rational thought.  _ Holy fucking SHIT! I’m fucking kissing Clay, what the FUCK why did I do that, why did I do that, why did I do that-  _

All rational thought ended abruptly as a small groan fell from Clay’s lips, the vibrations from the noise sending vibrations throughout the king’s body. The knight quickly kissed George back, the knight’s fingers thread their way through George’s hair, trying desperately to get him closer. It feels exactly like George’s dream, the way Clay’s lips were slightly chapped, the way that kissing him felt like honey flowing through his veins. The way their lips moved in perfect synchronicity, the world fading away and only leaving two boys whose hearts were trying desperately to pour years and years of emotions out into this one kiss. 

They pull away breathlessly, their foreheads pressed together as heavy pants fall from their lips. George lets out a breathy laugh, looking into Clay’s dark, hooded eyes, bathing in the glory of the feeling building in his stomach. “That was…”

“Yeah.. I know.” They sit there in silence before Clay brushes his thumb across George’s lips, sending a shiver down the king’s body. “I’ve been imagining that since I was like, 10.” 

A loud laugh fell from George’s lips as he gazed at Clay, trying to wrap his head around everything that was happening. “I-is this real? Because this moment has happened to me before in a dream and I just want to make sure-”

Clay cuts him off by pressing his lips against George’s once more, the king sighing into the kiss and reciprocating quickly. George relishes in the feeling, never wanting this moment to end, never wanting to let go of the pure bliss he felt. They pull away once more, a playful smirk playing on Clay’s lips. “So you dream about me, what’s that about?” A wild blush roars to life on George’s cheeks as he recalls his dream the night before his coronation, his head turning away from Clay’s momentarily before the knight grabs his jaw and turns him back. “Aw come on, George. Tell me! What do you dream about late at night when no one is there to watch, hm?” Clay leaned in close, his lips brushing against George’s and his voice a raspy whisper. “Do you dream about what it would feel like to kiss you? Or do you imagine my hands on you, pulling at your hair and trailing against that pretty little body of yours.” As he whispered the words, his fingers began to trail across George’s collarbone, his touch delicate as a feather. 

George shakily shook his head yes earning a look of approval from Clay. “I had a dream the night before my coronation, we were up here and we kissed and it was so… real and passionate and overwhelming that I woke up in the middle of the night and I-”

Clay’s eyes grew wide. “O-h.”

George tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean ‘oh?’” A bright blush spreads across Clay’s face, his green eyes averting George’s gaze. The king’s mouth drops. “Clay do you know something?”

The younger boy’s eyes widen, his face falling into his hands as a muffled noise of shame falls from his lips. He peeks his head up, cringing internally before responding. “Maybe…” 

_ No fucking way… no FUCKING way!  _ Pieces of the puzzle all began to click, and George wasn’t sure how he felt about the final result. “Did you… did you HEAR me?”

Another strange noise leaves Clay’s throat. “Kind of…”

“What do you mean, ‘kind of?’ Come on, Dream. Just tell me!”

A strangled groan escapes Clay’s mouth, the boy finally lifting his head to look at George. “I came to visit you, that night. I- I couldn’t sleep after the way we left things after the ball and I- I wanted to apologize so I went to your room and when I saw you weren’t in your bed… I got worried!” The knight winces once more, his entire face red. “S-so I was going to leave, but then I uh… I heard you. In the tub.”

A wave of embarrassment crosses over George, heat spreading throughout his body. “Tell me you didn’t… hear EVERYTHING?”

Clay’s lips morph into a sheepish smile. “What like how you were moaning my name like it was a religion? Yeah… let’s just say it uh, affected me in a certain way.”

Curiosity sparked within George. “Clay… did you get off to me getting off to you?” The knight nodded slowly, his head returning back to his hands.  _ Why is that so ridiculously hot? _

Clay’s head quickly picked up, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped as he brought himself to look at George. “What did you just say?”  _ Did I say that outloud? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK-  _ “Hello? Earth to George?” The knight moved his hand in front of George’s face, causing the king to snap out of his state of denial and blush deeper than he already had been. “You think it’s hot that I snuck into your room and fucked myself as you imagined me with you?” 

_ Holy fucking shit.  _ George nodded slowly, leading to the older boy mimicking Clay’s previous position of burying his head in his hands. A smirk fell over Clay’s lips. “Don’t get cocky.” The king muttered, bringing himself to look at the knight once more. “Why am I so… affected by you? It’s like all rational thought leaves my head.” George sighs. “You make me so weak.”

Clay furrows his brow. “I don’t think I make you weak.” George scoffs, causing the younger boy to grasp George’s chin, forcing him to stare into the knight’s green eyes. Neither boy moved, Clay’s tongue slowly running over his lips before he brought his bottom lip between his teeth. He brushed his finger over George’s lips, causing the brunet to shiver. “You want to know what I think?” George gulped, nodding. “I think I make you strong. I think that you’re afraid of being vulnerable, because you don’t want to get hurt.” A hungry look fills Clay’s eyes, his voice dropping slightly. “You should know something though, your majesty. When I saw you in that mirror you have ever so conveniently placed in your bathroom, when I saw the way the mere  _ idea  _ of me made you fall apart at the seams… I don’t think that was you being weak.” Clay leaned forward, his breath hot against George’s neck. “I think that was a boy, who desperately wanted to feel good, a boy who just wanted to be taken care of.” Clay bit George’s ear, not enough for it to be painful, but enough to solicit a gasp from the king’s lips. “Tell me now, your highness, is it a sin to want to feel wanted?”

Clay trailed his hand down George’s body, causing a breathy groan to leave the older boy’s throat. “Clay, please.”

The knight stopped right above George’s waist, tracing the fabric that covered the lower half of his body. “Please what, your majesty?” Clay’s breaths are somehow even, while George felt like he was about to start hyperventilating. “What do you want, George?” The two made eye contact, and in a wave of desire, George brought his lips back to Clay’s, lifting himself onto the knight’s lap and bringing his fingers to lace into Clay’s blond mess of hair. The kiss was heated, Clay’s composed demeanor melting away as the lust took over, his hands moving to George’s waist as he hungrily kissed the king back. George moved his hips forward, earning an approving groan from the man under him. “Do that again.” 

George stopped kissing Clay, making a ‘tsk’ sound. “Come on now, Clay. Think about who you’re talking to.” George moved his lips to Clay’s neck, a strangled whine leaving the knight’s mouth. The brunet slowly placed hot kisses along the exposed skin of Clay’s neck, bathing in the desperate sounds that spewed from his mouth. 

Clay tilted his head back, his eyes shutting as George’s lips made their way back up his neck, the older boy placing kisses along Clay’s jaw, leading for them to ghost over the knight’s lips. He leaned in greedily, trying to steal another kiss but George makes the sound again, causing Clay to huff. “Please, your highness. Please do that again.” George smirked, capturing Clay’s lips and repeating the movement, earning another sound from the younger boy. 

“WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT IS GOING ON!” A loud voice cut in, causing the two boys to separate quickly and look for the source of the interruption. 

Horror crossed both of their faces when they saw who it was, guilt washing over George. “Tommy! W-what are you doing here?” 

The young boy was standing a couple feet away, his face bright red and his eyes practically popping out of their sockets. “I- I um- I saw you come up here and I heard some concerning sounds and I- I wanted to make sure you were alright, but um- yeah I’ll just… I’ll just go! I didn’t see anything!” Tommy let out a nervous laugh, standing still for a moment before he quickly sprinted off. 

George and Clay stood in silence before a small laugh fell from George’s mouth, the king burying his head in Clay’s shoulder. The two laughed together, the awkwardness of Tommy, the boy they both saw as a brother, seeing them so caught up in…  _ that _ . “Oh my fucking God, that was awful.” George’s voice was muffled from the thick fabric of Clay’s shirt, and the younger boy wheezed loudly.

“It’s fine! Just some… light trauma.” George lifted his head to look at Clay, a playful frown playing on his lips, causing Clay to grin and press a light kiss on George’s forehead, causing the older boy to blush. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Clay grabbed George’s arm and began to pull him in the direction Tommy had run off to, causing George’s eyes to flood with confusion. “Where are we going? Isn’t talking to him only going to make it worse?”

The knight rolled his eyes. “Only one way to find out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After twenty four minutes of looking for the young boy, Clay and George finally found Tommy in the dining hall speaking to a girl who looked even younger than he was. She was short, her curly brown hair secured in a messy bun atop her head, her body adorned in the clothes the kitchen maids wore.  _ That’s odd _ . George thought.  _ I didn’t think the kitchen employed such young members.  _ Ignoring his thoughts, the two men made their way towards Tommy and the girl, over hearing a small part of their conversation. 

“Lani please. I told you that I would be out of here soon.” Tommy’s voice is agitated, as if he was annoyed with the girl, who seemed to be identified as Lani. “I need more time.”

The girl huffed. “You don’t have any more time. He’s furious, and if he finds out you got caught-” Her sentence cuts short as her soft brown eyes meet George’s, panic spreading across her face. “Your highness!” She fell into a curtsey, alerting Tommy of their presence and causing the lengthy boy to turn to face them, bowing slightly. 

When the two brought themselves back up, George gave them a small smile. “Do you mind if we borrow Tommy for a minute? I promise to get him right back to you… I’m sorry what was your name?” George’s voice was calm and sweet, directing his attention to the girl.

She quickly flushed under the sudden attention, her eyes finding her feet and twisting her hair around her pointer finger. “I-I’m Lani Smith, your highness. Me and my mother work in the kitchen.” Her head tilted slightly upwards, George catching a glimpse of the fearful expression that was plastered on her face. 

George gave her a small smile. “Well hello, Lani. It’s a pleasure to meet one of Tommy’s friends, I was beginning to think he didn’t have any.” A sly smile creeps on to George’s lips as the young boy rolls his blue eyes, scoffing at the king.

“Oh please, I’ve got loads of friends. They’re just cooler than you, I’d be embarrassed to introduce them to you.”

“Hey! Come on that was mean Tommy! I’m cool!” A genuine look of hurt was splayed on George’s face, the brunet turning to face Clay. “I’m cool, right Clay?” 

When Clay failed to answer immediately, a loud cackle escaped Tommy’s mouth. “Oh wow! That’s hysterical, your boyfriend doesn’t even think you’re cool, how fucking embarassing is th-”

“TOMMY!” Clay’s voice is panicked, his eyes widening and his lips twisting into a tight smile. “Let’s go have this conversation somewhere else, okay?” The way Clay spoke implied that it wasn’t actually a question, causing a sigh to fall from Tommy’s lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay Clay.” Before leaving, he turned back to Lani, who was still quite red in the face. “I’ll see you later, tell your mum I say hi.” The girl quickly nodded, curtseying once more before running off. Tommy turned back to face the men. “Alright, let’s go.”

The three made their way to the meeting room, which was thankfully empty. As George hastily checked around the corridors, he shut the door and turned to face the young boy. “Tommy, how much did you see up on the roof?” 

The blond swallowed thickly, color spreading across his face. “I- I um, I didn’t see a lot. Just y-you guys… you know.” His icy blue eyes flicker from George to Clay, a slight amount of fear lacing them. “I’m sorry that I interrupted, I really have no problem with… that kind of stuff it just caught me off guard.” He paused. “Am I in trouble?”

A soft look fell across Clay’s face, the knight kneeling down next to Tommy and giving him a small smile. “No, of course you’re not in trouble. It’s just… if something like this got out around the castle, King George could get really hurt.” Clay turned to look at George, who gave him a nod of approval. “Technoblade is very powerful, and from what you’ve told us, he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. If word gets out that the king has a weakness, or anyone special in his life, Technoblade can take advantage of that. He could-” Clay paused, taking in a deep breath. “He could kill me to make George weak, and I don’t think you want that to happen, do you?”

Concern washes over Tommy’s face as he shook his head rapidly. “NO! Of course I don’t want that… I swear I didn’t tell anyone.” His eyes met George’s, and the king couldn't help but feel… scared. “I would never do that to you, my loyalty is to the crown.” 

A thick silence fell across the room before it was interrupted by the door swinging open, George looking up to see Wilbur. A warm smile crosses his face. “Sir Wilbur! It’s nice to see you, but me and Sir Clay were in the middle of somethi-”

“Wilbur?” George’s words are cut short by Tommy abruptly standing up, his eyes filled with horror and his mouth dropped to the floor. 

Clay put his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Tommy? What’s wrong, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Tommy swallowed thickly. “It’s because I have.” He silently made his way to Wilbur, who had a similar look as Tommy plastered on his face. The young boy shakily reached out and touched Wilbur’s arm, recoiling as he did. 

Clay stared between the two, his face confused. “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. How exactly do you two know each other?”

Although it was hard to see, a tear began to trail down Tommy’s face, the small drop of water falling in slow motion as it moved quickly to the ground. Taking a deep breath, the boy spoke once more. “We grew up together.” He turned to face George and Clay, his face stern. “Wilbur is my brother.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING THIS!!! I really appreciate all the support!
> 
> Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this chapter!


	7. The Mysterious Life of Wilbur Soot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of the brother's Soot, two boys alike in dignity fighting on opposite sides, both believing what they fight for is the right thing. Or do they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's actually no DNF in this chapter, this chapter is focused on Wilbur and Tommy! Focusing on plot :P
> 
> (psa I listened to 'falling down' by lil peep and xxx like, 20 times on repeat when I wrote this and it shows)

**W** ilbur Soot grew up in a small, but wealthy village in L’Manburg, his father was never present, leaving Wilbur to essentially raise Tommy. Wilbur never resented his father, though. He had many fond memories of the two taking trips to the castle, his father leaving Wilbur to explore while he went to meetings with the king. Wilbur remembered always loving the library, he remembered finding stories of heroes and good and evil to bring back home to read Tommy to sleep, he remembered staying up until ungodly hours reading history books and learning an unhealthy amount of information about the royals, about the castle, about the past of L’Manburg. 

Wilbur remembered the day that Tommy got kidnapped at the mere age of 10, he remembers the pure terror of waking up a month later to see the disfigured body of his little brother laying outside his door with a note saying ‘ _ All Hail the King.’  _ Wilbur remembered the funeral for his little brother, the boy who was afraid to go into the village without Wilbur by his side, the boy who never learned how to swim because he was afraid of being eaten by something that lurked in the waters. Wilbur remembered the next couple days; him and his father moving into the castle permanently, the depression he fell into, the constant paranoia of what happened to his little brother living in his head, the fear of what had happened overtaking his life. 

Wilbur remembered his nineteenth birthday, the day that his father got sent off to war alongside King Schlatt. He remembered the tight hug his father had wrapped him in, the feeling of his hot tears falling down his face and the sad kiss that was placed atop Wilbur’s head. 

_ “I’ll be back soon.”  _ He had said.  _ “I promise that I’ll return.”  _

Wilbur remembered slowly breaking out of his paranoia as he made his way on to the council, making a few friends with the other nobles and returning to the library more often. He remembered the late night walks he took with Niki and Floris, the times they would go to the moonlit lake after Wilbur had cried and cried over the loss of his brother, the way Niki would sing a comforting melody as her fingers stroked through his hair until he fell asleep. Wilbur remembered the warm feeling of Floris and Niki’s tight hugs wrapped around his shaking body when Wilbur got the letter that his father had been killed in battle, and he remembered the pain being lessened now that he had people in his life again.

Wilbur Soot was an orphan, he had no one left in his family, but at least he was making a new one with the people he had in his life. So you can imagine the pure terror that Wilbur felt at age twenty four, after he had been alone for so long, after he had spent three years believing he was the last of his line, only to see his dead brother standing in front of him.

No one had said a thing since Tommy’s words had echoed through the air, the epiphany of Wilbur and Tommy’s relationship coming to light. Wilbur couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. How was this happening? Wilbur had seen Tommy’s corpse, he had watched as he was buried. How is this real? Tommy was standing right in front of him, dressed in clothes that nobles wore, and from the looks of it, he was very much alive. Wilbur took a step back, his vision blurring. “T-Tommy?” His voice is but a mere whisper, words failing to escape his mouth. “H-how?”

His younger brother’s face remained stern, however, Wilbur could see the tears pooling in his eyes. “I could ask you the same. Y-you died in the war. I know you died, I- Technoblade-”

Wilbur’s demeanor became stiff. “Did you just say Technoblade?” 

It was at this moment when Wilbur realized that he and his brother were not alone, an awkward cough emerging from Clay’s throat as he tried to process what was going on. “Tommy has worked for Technoblade since he was ten. We captured him a little over a week ago and he’s been helping us try to catch the bastard.”

Wilbur turned to the knight, sadness filling his eyes. “Over a week?”  _ Your brother has been living right under your nose for over a week, your little brother has thought you were dead. You couldn’t protect him and he got involved with the most dangerous man in the country. This is all your fault.  _ Wilbur swallowed thickly, turning back to his brother. “Y-you were dead. I s-saw your body, after you got kidnapped.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed. “Kidnapped? What the fuck are you talking about. Dad abandoned me and left me to fend for myself when I was only fucking 10, he took you to the castle and he chose you over me and left me for dead! A-and then y-you went to war and you…” Tears began to fall down his face. “Wilbur what the fuck happened?” 

The councilman hadn’t even noticed that the king had moved to stand next to him, flinching when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I think you two should sort this out… Clay, let's give them some space.” Wilbur’s eyes met George's, sending him a thankful look. George gave him a sympathetic smile, exiting the room with Clay right behind him, the door shutting. They were alone. 

Wilbur didn’t wait a second longer, his arms immediately wrapping around Tommy’s body as tears began to fall quickly down his face. Tommy’s skinny body tensed up at the contact, hesitating before his returned the motion, his thin arms wrapping tightly around his older brother’s body as they both sobbed. A choked noise escapes the younger boy’s throat, causing Wilbur to bring himself to look at his brother. “A-are you okay?”

Tommy let out a distorted laugh, wiping his eyes. “I- you’re actually here.” His grip tightened around Wilbur, tears continuing to fall down his face. “You’re actually alive.”

~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like hours of crying and desperate hugging, Wilbur and Tommy finally separated and were sitting on two chairs, facing each other. Wilbur swallowed. “So, Technoblade. Let’s start there.” Tommy averted his eyes from Wilbur, finding an interesting spot on his leg to focus on. “I’m serious, Tommy. He’s been feeding you lies, he’s been taking advantage of you and manipulating you. I have to know everything that’s happened to you.” Wilbur’s voice is concerned, mixed with a stern undertone, and it made Tommy want to hide in a corner and cry. 

The younger boy takes a deep breath, turning to look at his brother. “I- I don’t remember a lot. I can vaguely remember parts of when we were kids, but I honestly don’t remember anything from when I was ten up until I was twelve. I think Techno might have kept me drugged, because anytime I try to think of that two year period.. I can’t think of anything.” He twiddled with his fingers, a nervous tic that Wilbur had developed after the passing of his father. “One day, I just remember waking up in this.. weird underground base. There were a bunch of soldiers there, and there was this man who looked like he was above all of them standing at the head of this really long table. I-I don’t remember how I got there, but he approached me as if he had known me my entire life. He said his name was Technoblade, and that he had found me alone in the woods.” Tommy flinched, as if the memory was painful to even think about. “I didn’t believe him, I couldn’t believe him. Because if I did believe him, it meant that you had actually abandoned me… that you had left me alone to go live a fancy new life in the castle with dad.” The younger boy sniffed. “But it was the only thing I had to go on. I couldn’t remember anything, and Technoblade… he has a way with words. He’s very good at manipulating emotions and memories, so I believed everything he told me. He- he kind of treated me like he was my older brother.” 

A sharp pain shot through Wilbur’s heart, a shiver running through his body. He didn’t interrupt, but Tommy noticed the change in Wilbur’s demeanor, giving him a small smile before continuing. “I never actually associated with him, I hated being there. I wanted to believe that you were still out there, that you still cared about me. If I hadn’t met Tubbo, I think I would have lost my mind.”

Wilbur tilted his head in confusion. “Tubbo? Who’s that?”

A sad smile crept onto Tommy’s face. “He was my friend… the only person I had. Technoblade would send me into the nearest village to get food and other necessities for everyone underground, and one day I met this boy. He’s my age, a couple months older and his name is Toby. I saw him about once a week, and we grew very close.” A small laugh leaves Tommy’s mouth. “When he turned sixteen, Technoblade took him. I don’t know where, but he’s holding Tubbo’s safety over my head. I have to do what he tells me to do or else the only person who cares about me will die, and I- I can’t do that.” His blue eyes meet Wilbur’s, both of them knowing the pain that the other was feeling. “My final breaking point was when Technolade came to me one day, he told me you went to fight in the war and died. I had been under Techno’s control for too long at that point, anything he told me I believed. So when he told me you were dead… I didn’t question it. It was your death that made me loyal to Technoblade, and I’ve been trying to take down the monarchy ever since as Techno’s right hand man.” 

Wilbur placed his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, pain and heartbreak flooding the older boy’s body. “Tommy I- I’m so sorry. I know that I can’t do anything to undo the pain you’ve endured, but I, I want you to know that I thought you were dead. When you were 10, you disappeared. The first few hours you were gone, I didn’t think anything of it, I just thought you were out picking flowers in the field or doing something else. But then when it started to get dark… I knew something was wrong.” Wilbur flinched as he recalled his memories. “Dad and I spent weeks looking for you, but you were nowhere to be found. We never gave up hope… until a month went by and a body that looked a lot like you showed up at the door.” A tear fell down Wilbur’s face. “It was so bloody… and disfigured… but it looked exactly like you and I- I couldn’t believe it. There was a note, and after everything you told me about Technoblade, it makes sense to me now…” 

Tommy swallowed harshly. “What did the note say, Wilbur?”

The older boy looked at his brother with sadness overtaking his body. “All hail the king. I- I just thought it was an attack on dad, since he worked for King Schlatt… but I- I didn’t realize that it could have been Technoblade-”

“Wait.” Tommy interrupted. “You said ‘worked’ when you referred to dad. Isn’t he still working at the castle? For King George?”

Wilbur’s face dropped. “Tommy… dad is the one who went into war and died… He’s been dead for three years.” 

An unreadable expression crosses the younger boy’s face before it morphed into a pained expression, tears pricking his eyes. “I-” He swallowed. “I never got to say goodbye…” Wilbur quickly moved, his arms wrapping around Tommy and holding his younger brother as he began to break down. Choked sobs escaped his throat. “W-when I thought i-it was you, I got s-so upset t-that I’d never be able t-to say goodbye, but I at least thought that I-I’d see dad again one day.” 

An idea pops into Wilbur’s head as he pulls off of his brother, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

Tommy stares at his brother, confused. “Where are we going?”

Wilbur gives Tommy a small smile. “To say goodbye to dad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their walk to the soldier’s graveyard was silent, the only sounds being the occasional sniff from Tommy. As they walked, Wilbur stopped at the door of a house in the village, knocking lightly on it and proceeding to wait with his hands clasped behind his back. Tommy looked confused. “Why are we here? Who lives here?”

Wilbur smiles fondly, turning to his younger brother. “My fiance.” The door swung open and revealed Niki, a wide smile spread on her face at the sight of Wilbur. 

“Will! I was wondering when you were going to show up!” Her bright eyes fell on Tommy, giving him a bright smile. “Who is this? I don’t think I’ve seen you around the castle.”

Wilbur smiled at his fiance. “Niki, this is Tommy.” 

Her smile fell. “Wait… as in your brother? The one who…” Her eyes flicked between the two, before her warm smile returned. “I don’t know how this is real… but it’s a pleasure to meet you, Tommy. My name is Nihachu, but you can call me Niki.” 

Tommy gave her a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you too..” He turned to face Wilbur before looking back to Niki. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

Niki sent a sympathetic smile to the young boy. “It was my pleasure.” She then turned back to Wilbur. “Do you still want me to come with you to visit? I know you don’t like going alone.” She took Wilbur’s hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze as Wilbur smiled fondly at her.

“It’s okay, Niki.” The taller boy turned to face his brother, his eyes filled with warmth. “I have my family now.”

The rest of the walk to the cemetery is filled with light hearted banter between the two brothers, Tommy cracking a few jokes about Wilbur actually getting a girl and Wilbur jokingly becoming annoyed with him. By the time they got to the grave yard, the sun was beginning to set, the vibrant yellows and pinks fading into warm oranges and reds as they blended into the dark purples and blues of the night sky. Wilbur led Tommy to the spot he had memorized from the weekly visits he’d been making for the past three years, sitting on his knees and gesturing for Tommy to do the same.

The grave was simple, yet also carried a certain amount of elegance and dignity to it. A small angel was perched atop the stone, flowers and other tokens of appreciation scattered towards the bottom. Engraved in the stone read:

_ Here lies Councilman Phil of L’Manburg _

_ Brave warrior, trusted friend, and beloved father. _

_ May his soul fly high. _

A sad smile spread to Wilbur’s face, taking in the situation. “Hey dad, you’ll never believe who came to visit.” His eyes shift to Tommy, silently telling him to speak.

The younger boy swallowed, looking at the ground. “H-hi dad. It’s me, Tommy.” He hesitated, trying to hold back the tears already pricking in his eyes. “I- I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye. I’m sorry you thought I was dead, I’m sorry that you never got to see me grow up.” Tommy’s fingers traced over the engraved words. “I’m sorry I was never the best son. I know Wilbur was always with you when you went to the castle, and I know it’s my own fault because I was too little to understand that stuff, but I regret never spending more time with you.” The first tears began to flow down the boy’s face, the sunlight creating a halo that made Tommy’s hair look glow as if he were a heavenly being. “I’ll make things right. I- I won’t let you die in vain.” As the tears began to hit the soft grass below the two brothers, Tommy felt himself falling into the waiting arms of Wilbur, letting his older brother cradle him as he sobbed. “I- I promise, dad.” He sniffed, the tears continuing to stream down his face. “I promise I’ll take Technoblade down. I don’t care if it’s an army, or an explosion, or if I have to stab the fucking bastard myself, but I will not let him destroy what you lost your life for.”

Wilbur’s eyes turned fearful, sadness overtaking his body. “Tommy…”

The younger boy ignored him, continuing to speak. “I was confused before. My orders were to take down the king from the inside, but I won’t do it. Technoblade has no power over me, and he never will again.” Sniffing once more, Tommy reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a single blue flower and placing it delicately on the ground. “I love you, dad. Goodbye.”

He suddenly stood, holding his hand out to Wilbur. “Let’s go end this. Are you with me?”

Wilbur looked at the extended hand, his eyes meeting Tommy’s and being filled with determination. He grasped it firmly, using it to stand up and giving his younger brother a confident smile. “I’m with you until the end, Tommy. Let’s take this mother fucker down.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!!! I was so hyped from the way chapter six ended that I wanted to get this one out as soon as possible, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! Don't worry, we'll be back to our regular program of George/Clay next chapter. 
> 
> Do you like the chapters based on other character's POV's of do you prefer the story from George or Clay's perspective? Let me know for future reference :P


	8. All Hail the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to your regularly scheduled gay idiots in love <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo!! sorry for taking so long to update, but this it literally the longest chapter I've written and it took so much out of me, but here she is!!
> 
> (ps, when Clay and George dance, I was listening to "Sway" by Michael Buble religiously and it shows)

**T** he bomb of information dropped on George that Tommy and Wilbur were brothers was simply too much for the young king to handle.  _ I mean what the fuck, that’s insane! What are the chances of that, I mean come on. God this is so much to process… like seriously, what the FUCK?  _ His thoughts are quickly put to rest after a large hand is placed on his shoulder, George turning around and smiling widely at Clay. “Hey there stranger.” 

Clay gives him a soft smile, his hand trailing down the brunet’s arm and interlacing their fingers. “Hey Georgie.” The two stand there in silence before George licks his lips, leaning in to kiss the taller boy. Clay turns his head, George’s lips pressing against his cheek instead. The older boy looks at Clay quizzically, causing the younger boy to swallow thickly. “I- I think we should talk about some things. Can we go somewhere private?” 

George nods slowly, his brow furrowed. “Yeah, we can go to my chambers… is everything okay, Dream?” He gives Clay’s hand a firm squeeze, the knight’s green eyes looking down at him.

He returns the motion, causing George’s heart to swell a little. “I just… I think we should talk about things… about us.” Clay’s green eyes were big, his lip slanting in a small pout. “Is that okay?”

George gave the blond a warm smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, of course that’s okay. Let’s go on then, okay?” With their fingers still linked, the two begin to walk in the direction of George’s bedroom, the king’s thoughts moving a mile a minute.  _ God he’s going to say he hates me, or that his feelings were fake. He’s gonna say he regrets the kiss, that he regrets confessing, that he takes it all back. FUCK, George!  _ He swallowed harshly as the two reached his doors, George looking at the guards outside. “No one is allowed in here. Not even Sir Nick and Sir Karl, understand?”   
  


The guard nodded. “Yes, your majesty.” The doors opened, the two men taking short steps into the open bedroom. George walks over to his bed, sitting on the edge and patting the open space next to him to signify Clay to join. 

Waiting until the doors clicked shut, the blond took his seat on the fluffy duvet, his green eyes meeting George’s and giving him a small smile. “Hi.”

The younger boy’s voice is soft, making George smile. “Hi.” They sit in a comfortable silence before both of the men begin to speak at the same time. “So you said-”

“So I wanted-” The two pause for a minute before breaking out into laughter, Clay’s signature tea kettle whistle filling the room and only causing George to laugh harder. The taller boy wiped a tear from his eye, settling down from the commotion and smiling widely as he looked at George. “Do you mind if I speak first, your majesty.”

George rolled his eyes, trying not to blush at the mention of the words, ‘your majesty.’ “If you insist, Dream.”

Their eyes meet again, Clay’s hand resting in his lap as he twiddles with his thumbs nervously. “We have to talk about earlier… on the roof, about everything that happened and about what I said.” George swallowed thickly, nodding his head slowly and signifying for Clay to continue. He took a deep breath. “I’m happy you kissed me, George. I know your pretty little head was probably thinking that I regretted it or something, but I don't. I REALLY do not regret the kiss, and if this talk goes well, I’d love to revisit that kiss.” The king blushes, continuing to listen to Clay’s words. “But just because we kissed, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been treating me like shit. You lied to me about not remembering the first night on the roof, and as much as I want to put it in the past, I have to get this out there.” The knight sighed. “When we were with Nick and Karl earlier, you said that when you looked at the meteor shower, you wished that I would have kissed you. Is that true?”

His eyes signaled to George that it was his turn to respond, the brunet clearing his throat. “It’s true. I- I don’t know if it was just because I was super tipsy, you know, the whole ‘drunk words are sober thoughts’ thing, or if it was because I had like, the biggest crush on you when we were younger, but I definitely know that I wanted you to kiss me.” George paused, his blush deepening. “But then the move was never made. And then a couple years later, you left to go fight… and I was alone. I had to begin to learn how to take over the kingdom, alone. Obviously, I appreciate you fighting for this country so, SO much, Clay, but I woke up every single day worrying that that one day, I would be receiving a letter saying you had died. That I would have to go to your funeral, watch as you were buried, cry with your family…” George sniffed, causing Clay’s face to turn soft.

The knight tilted his head slightly. “George… I’m not going anywhere, I said it at your coronation and I meant it. I will always be here for you. I just need to know where we stand, because I know now more than ever that I am in love with you, but there are still complications that we have to talk about.” Clay placed his hand on top of George’s, tracing soft circles on the back of his pale skin.

George nodded slowly. “I understand.” He swallowed, realizing what he had to say next. “One of those complications is Technoblade, Dream. I remember what you told Tommy earlier, about how if Technoblade found out we were together, he could…” George turned his head away, looking at his lap. “He could kill you, make me weak by taking away someone close to the crown.” Tears begin to prick at the corners of the older boy’s eyes, causing George to blink a few times in an attempt to rid himself of them.

A heavy sigh leaves Clay’s mouth. “And all of that is true, Georgie. But you have to realize, I am constantly at risk by even siding with the crown. By making my alignments known, by being an active protector of the monarchy, I am already a threat to Technoblade. But it doesn’t matter, I would endure thousands of hours of tourture and die a million deaths if it meant that you would be safe.” The younger boy moved his hand up to George’s face, wiping the few tears that had begun to leak from his eyes. “I want to be with you. Romantically, and from what happened on the rooftop, I find it hard to believe that you don’t feel the same. I’m willing to hide it, to love you in secret, but I cannot make any promises as to what could happen in the future.” Clay cupped George’s chin, turning the brunet’s head to face the blond and smiling. “I think that we owe it to ourselves to at least give it a try, don’t you?”

George involuntarily sighed at the contact of Clay’s hand, bringing his eyes to meet the knight’s. “You’re making it awfully hard for me to say no…”

The younger boy’s face lights up. “So is that a yes! You’re willing to give it a try, to give us a try?” Clay’s eyes held a childlike glow to them, his mouth perked up in a hopeful smile.

George laughed. “I’m saying yes, but we have to be caref-”

The brunet was cut off by Clay’s lips softly pressing against his own, a sigh leaving George’s mouth as he leaned into the kiss. It was passionate, yet it wasn’t like desperate and burning kisses on the rooftop. Clay lips were gentle as they slowly moved against George’s, taking his time to explore every corner of George’s mouth, savoring every noise that escaped the older boy’s throat. The two separated with smiles on their faces, and in that moment, the only thing George could feel was pure and genuine bliss.  _ This is what love feels like. This is everything I’ve been looking for.  _ “I love you, George. And I know that you have trouble saying it back but I know you feel the same.” Clay was glowing with joy. “We’re Clay and George, the king and his knight. For now, I can love you enough for the both of us.”

Happy tears began to form in George’s eyes, the older boy laughed slightly before rubbing his eyes. “You really are out of a dream, you know. I… I really don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life, Clay.” He gulped, biting his lip and letting out a breathy laugh. “I hope you know that I do… you know.” George looked away slightly. “One day, I hope I’ll be strong enough to say it to you, because you deserve the world, Dream. You deserve the world and so much more, and I hope I’ll be able to give it to you.” A wide smile crosses George’s lips as he brings his eyes back to Clay’s face, an overwhelming warmth filling the entirety of the older boy’s body. 

Clay was staring at George like he was the only thing in the world that mattered, and for the first time in quite a while, George was open to being in love again. They were Clay and George, the childhood friends who after years of just missing each other finally caught up and accepted that it was always them. 

It would always be Clay.

~~~~~~~~~~~

George and Clay emerged from the king’s chambers with wide grins on their faces, Clay would whisper stupid jokes into George’s ear that would cause light giggles to escape his mouth and Clay would blush at the sound. A month had now passed since the two had started seeing each other, their relationship remaining a secret from even the knowledge of Nick and Karl. The month was filled with secret glances during council meetings, brilliant blue cornflowers left on George’s nightstand, candlelight kisses in the dark of the night. George was utterly and completely happy, with Clay by his side, nothing could touch him, no one could take him down.

Tommy and Wilbur had been nonstop working on ways to exploit Technoblade, and while they were making progress, Techno had been suspiciously quiet ever since Tommy’s capture. It had been almost two months since there had been any riots or pillaging, no threats had been made, no strange behavior was reported in the villages. George knew that it was stupid to assume that Technoblade had backed down, but it was hard to deny that the kingdom had been in the most peaceful state it had seen since the war. 

On the tenth of August, a plan was hatched. A masquerade ball was to be held in two days' time at the palace. All would be welcome to attend and Tommy would be the guest of honor. It would be announced that Tommy would be executed at first light the next day, and that if any rebels were caught, they would soon face the same fate. Obviously, there would be no execution, but it was the only way that the brother’s could think of that would get Technoblade to show himself. “Trust me, for some reason Technoblade cares about me.” The young boy had swallowed harshly. “If he hears word that I am to be executed, I know that he’ll show. He’s got this hero complex, he thinks that he’s this great protector of the defenseless.” A pained expression crossed Tommy’s face, Wilbur’s hand falling gently on his shoulder. Tommy’s blue eyes met George’s, fire burning bright. “This will work. It has to.”

When the twelfth of August arrived, George found himself outside of Clay’s chambers, a green carnation tucked behind his back. He knocked on the door, being greeted with a wide smile and a strong arm that brought George into the room quickly. Soft lips were pressed firmly against his own, causing George to sigh into the kiss. They pulled apart with happy grins on their faces, a light blush dusting Geroge’s cheeks. “Hi.” His voice was light and quiet.

Clay’s smile widened. “Hello, my love.” The taller boy slowly brought George’s hand to his lips, kissing it. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

George rolled his eyes playfully. “I bought you something.” Clay’s head cocked to the side, his eyes lighting up when the older boy showed him the flower he had been hiding. The blond tentatively took the flower, his eyes scanning over it with wonder in his eyes. “I also got you this.” 

Clay took his eyes off of the flower and moved them to the ring in George’s hand, his mouth dropping slightly. It was an expensive looking silver band, a braided pattern of metal surrounding the ring with small, emerald squares spaced out around the round shape. Clay’s fingers took the ring gently in his hand, as if he was worried he would break it. “W-why did you get me this?” His eyes never left the ring, his voice was quiet. 

George laughed lightly. “You didn’t think I forgot your birthday, did you?”

Clay’s eyes slowly moved to meet George’s, disbelief flooding his face. In the blink of an eye, the older boy was yanked into a tight embrace, Clay’s arms wrapped firmly around George’s waist. George quickly reciprocated the motion, letting out a deep sigh and resting his head on the taller boy’s chest, smiling slightly as he felt Clay’s heartbeat pick up. The knight placed his head atop George’s, pressing a kiss into his soft hair. “I love it.” Clay moved his hands to cup George’s face, looking directly into his eyes. “I love you.”

George flushed at the words. “I-I’m glad you like it.” He hesitates, letting out a huff of a laugh. “It was my mother’s. She gave it to me when I was super little, told me it was always too big on her but it never fit me, though.” His face grew darker. “I guess I thought… might as well give it to someone who means something to me, you know?”

Upon hearing George’s words, Clay’s eyes softened and his heart swelled, tears beginning to prick in his eyes. “You want me to have your mother’s ring?”

Their eyes hadn’t left each other’s gaze, George swallowing thickly. “Of course I do, Dream.” He tilts his head into Clay’s hand. “You’re my family. Plus, mother would always talk so highly of you, I remember we’d stay up late and I would talk for hours about how much I fancied you.” George smiled sadly. “She always told me that I should make my move, that I should ignore what my father would tell me and just be with you… I really wish I had taken her advice.” 

Clay’s thumb traced circles on the smooth surface of George’s cheek, pressing a kiss to the brunet’s forehead. “You’re my family too, Georgie.” He moved his hands from George’s face, placing the ring on his pinky finger and smiling at how easily it slipped on. 

George’s eyes looked at the ring.  _ A perfect fit. My perfect fit.  _ As his eyes turned to connect with Clay’s again, an overwhelming wave of affection hit him. And perhaps it was seeing his deceased mother’s ring on Clay’s finger, or the intimacy of the moment, or how seen and loved George felt under the blond’s gaze, but George knew he had to say it. “Clay, I lo-”

“Sir Clay I have the tea you called for- OH MY LORD!” George’s head whipped to the door, eyes wide when they were met with Lani, the girl Tommy had been speaking too. “Your highness! I’m so sorry! Please forgive my intrusion, I didn’t know that you would be in here!” Her round eyes were tilted in a worried expression, the cup of tea in her hands shaking. “I’ll just be going, so sorry agai-”

“NO!” The girl flinched at the loudness of George’s voice, her movements towards the door coming to a halt. Guilt immediately washed over him, the brunet taking a deep breath and squatting down. “It was Lani, right?” The girl nodded shakily, causing George to sigh. “I’m sorry for yelling, Lani. I just… you seeing me here could put me in a lot of danger.” 

Lani swallowed, her eyes looking anywhere but at George. “I promise I won’t say anything, your highness. My mother has taught me about how great the monarchy is, and I have been raised to believe everything she’s said. I would never do or say anything to get you in trouble, your highness.” Her voice is quiet, yet her words are strong and confident. When her eyes finally meet George’s they are filled with innocence and sadness. “Have I done something wrong? I really mean it when I say I wouldn’t harm the crown, I know how to keep a secret.”

George’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “You haven’t done anything wrong, but you have to understand this. I’m going to make the decision to trust you.” His gaze turned slightly cold, his dark eyes glaring into the young girl’s soul. “I hope I don’t come to regret it, Lani.”

Lani blinked, seemingly unfazed. “Of course, your highness.” Her eyes moved to look at Clay, who at the sudden attention, swallowed harshly under the girl’s somehow terrifying gaze. “I’d never go against my king.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the strangely terrifying interaction with Lani, George had hurriedly rushed back to his chambers to get ready for the ball. He stood in front of his mirror taking in his appearance and sighing. The stubble that had adorned his face during his coronation was long gone, his hair freshly cut and his eyes filled with a happy glow that he hadn’t seen since he was a child. The brunet tilted his head to the side, cuffing the sleeves of the puffy white collared shirt that clung to his thin frame. A blue velvet cloak was draped across his shoulders, and the weight of his crown seemed somewhat heavier than it usually did. Today was the day. Today was the day that Technoblade would be taken down. He HAD to be taken down. George walked slowly to his dresser, where a delicate looking ceramic mask lay. He brought it to his face, fastening it and looking at himself once more in the mirror before making his descent to the ballroom. 

The walk to the hall was silent and lonely, the corridors seeming to stretch longer than they usually did. After what felt like hours of George’s solemn walking, he arrived at the grand doors of the ballroom, giving a look to the guards as if to signal them to make his presence known. The heavy doors swung open, and George straightened himself up as he began to make his way to the throne. Even though the brunet was masked, everyone knew who he was, their eyes following him as he took his seat on the throne. Upon sitting, George turned his head to the side, pity falling over his body as he took in the sight of Tommy. 

In order to really sell the idea that Tommy was to be executed, the young boy was adorned in heavy cuffs and was chained to the ground in the middle of the throne stand. He was on his knees and looked genuinely miserable, and while George knew it was all for the cause, guilt continued to flood George’s body upon seeing Tommy so… broken. The blond was knelt a few feet in front of the king, his back facing George. After a few minutes of settling into the setting of the ball, Tommy secretly tapped his foot three times, signalling George to look towards the doors. 

His brown eyes met a tall, pig masked man; his hair a vibrant pink color which was pulled into a long, messy braid that fell to his shoulders. The mask practically took up the person’s entire face, but Tommy’s body remained completely frozen upon spotting the figure.  _ So this is the elusive Technoblade… Let’s see what he’s got.  _ George stood, clearing his throat to draw all attention to him. “Good evening citizens of L’Manburg! It is my great pleasure to welcome all of you into the castle tonight to witness the last day of the traitor Tommy Innit’s life.” Applause roared through the crowd, causing a slight wince to cross over the young boy chained to the ground. George felt his heart drop, but continued to speak. “May his execution show that anyone who dares oppose the crown will be met with the same fate, for the monarchy stands as strong and proud as it has throughout history. May the death of this boy show that we do not take treason lightly, and that when we finally capture the rebel Technoblade, his reign of terror on this kingdom will be put to rest!” Another round of cheers and applause rang through the citizens, but George’s eyes were trained on the dark purple eyes of the rebellion leader. A servant walked to the king, handing him a glass of wine which he took gratefully, raising it to the crowd. “To L’Manburg and to the crown!” 

Technoblade’s eyes were locked on George as he raised his own glass, a cold look resonating in his stare. The crowd raised their glasses and cheered, the music starting and people beginning to dance. As George made his descent, a strong arm grabbed him, causing the brunet to face the person. Their face was covered by a white, ceramic mask with a stupid looking smiley face drawn on it, and as a slow, yet sexy song began to echo through the ballroom. The masked man offered his hand to George. “Your highness, may I have this dance?”

George rolled his eyes, taking Clay’s hand. “How could I say no, my knight?” The taller man led the two into the middle of the dancing, pulling George close and wrapping his arm firmly around the shorter’s waist. The two fell into a comfortable trance, their steps deliberate and slow; working around each other as if this moment was something they had practiced many times. George unconsciously started moving his hips to the music, his tongue rolling across his lips and hearing a sharp inhale leave Clay’s throat. “Everything okay, Sir Clay?”

Clay chuckled lowly, spinning the shorter boy so that his back was pressed against the knight’s front. His hands gripped firmly at George’s waist, moving them with the slow roll of the brunet’s hips. This dance was different from the first ball; it was secretive and tension filled. The masks allowed privacy to the two men, creating a loophole for them to be with each other in public without being found out. George’s head lolled against Clay’s shoulder, one of his hands snaking up to grasp at the taller boy’s neck. The knight brought his face close to George’s throat, his breath hot against the shorter’s exposed skin. As the song continued, the two remained like that as they swayed to the melody, George’s hips occasionally grinding a little harder than usual against Clay and receiving low groans of pleasure from the blond. “George, you’re going to have to stop that before I say fuck it to the mission and take you into my bedroom and keep you there until you can’t walk.” His words are whispered into George’s ear and send shivers through his body. 

The brunet spun himself around to face Clay, his eyes meeting the knight’s green one’s. “After we succeed here, you can do whatever you want for all I care.”

As the song begins to fade out, the two men remain in their positions, their bodies moving in sync until a voice cuts through like a sword. “Excuse me, but may I cut in?” 

George’s eyes snap to the new voice, his heart leaping from his chest when he realized who had spoken. Clay followed suit, his lips pressing into a firm line. “Of course.” He hastily took a step back, allowing Technoblade to take the knight’s place. Clay’s eyes met George’s with a warning glance before he walked not too far away to where Karl and Nick stood. 

A new song picked up, the taller man’s arm snaking around George’s waist, but not pulling him close. The traitor was well dressed for someone who resided in an underground base away from society, an expensive looking red cloak with white tufts of fur lining the sides resting on his broad shoulders. His footsteps are expertly placed, almost like he had done this dance a million times. George cleared his throat. “So you’re the elusive Technoblade, huh?” The brunet allowed his eyes to scan over the pink haired man before bringing himself to gaze directly into the deep purple abyss of Technoblade’s eyes.

The taller man laughed. “And you’re the infamous King George, son of the recently deceased King Schlatt, may he rest in peace.” Techno removed one of his hands from George’s waist to do a quick cross, bringing his fingers to his exposed lips and pointing them to the sky. “What a shame his passing was, leaving the crown to his only son with no guidance. It must have been so hard, losing your dear ole dad and then immediately taking over his country.” His voice was unsettlingly monotone, the small parts of his face that were exposed showing no signs of emotion. 

George stiffened. “You won’t break me. I’m not as weak as you’ve made me out to be.” Technoblade dipped George, bringing him up quickly so that their faces lay close. Their eyes met, neither one of them moving their gaze as the two spaced out, resuming the dance. “I know you’re here to try to save the traitor. Your attempts will be wasted, though.”

The pair moved in large steps throughout the ballroom, their eyes never leaving the other’s for a second. Technoblade smirked. “Perhaps you are smarter than I thought, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll get Tommy back and I’ll get out of here without being caught, because I think with my head, not my heart.” One of his long fingers moves to brush a strand of hair behind George’s ear, causing shivers to run throughout the shorter’s body.

Suppressing his growing fear, George straightened himself. “Is that so?” The brunet leaned in, bringing his lips next to Technoblade’s. “Is that why Tommy was removed from the ballroom about three minutes ago?” For the first time since Technoblade walked in, panic flooded the seemingly void of human emotion, his eyes snapping to where Tommy’s chained body had once sat. 

As quick as the emotion came, the calm and collected manner that Technoblade had sported earlier returned, his eyes scanning over the crowd before bringing his gaze back to George, his grasp on the smaller’s waist tightening. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

George laughed sarcastically. “No, YOU have no idea what you’ve done.” The two had managed to sway away towards an isolated part of the ball room, their bodies still moving to the song. 

Technoblade shook his head. “Say, where’s that pretty little knight from earlier? It would be a shame if someone were to say, oh I don’t know. Take him away.” 

The brunet stopped moving, his eyes widening and snapping to where Clay had been standing earlier, only to be met with the sight of Karl and Nick, no Clay in sight. George’s breaths picked up, his head spinning and his eyes becoming heavy. “W-where is he? What’s happening to me?” George suddenly felt himself fall, strong arms catching him.

“Don’t worry, your majesty.” The last thing George could process before fading into unconsciousness was the cruel smirk that formed on Technoblade’s lips. “All hail the king, am I right?” 

And then it all went dark.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!!! I'll try to get chapter 9 out as soon as I can :p


	9. Find the King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a jealous Clay realizes that something is very off when he cannot seem to find his lover anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't my favorite, but it is what it is!! 
> 
> ALSO HAPPY NEW YEAR AND THANK YOU FOR 2K HITS!!! It's absolutely insane to me that people are actually reading and enjoying this, I appreciate all the support <3
> 
> Here's a little Clay POV for the soul, enjoy!! :p

**A** s it turned out, Clay’s jealousy was much stronger than he anticipated. He thought that he could just stand with Nick and Karl and ignore the fact that his lover was dancing with the most dangerous people in the country, but it was too much. The gracefulness of Technoblade’s dancing, or the way that neither of them broke eye contact for the entire dance was annoying, but Clay could tolerate it. It wasn’t until the stupid fuck had decided to brush that piece of hair behind George’s face that raging envy flooded his entire body. Nick and Karl had been in the middle of a conversation that the blond failed to pay attention to and abruptly interrupted. “I need some air. I’ll be back.”

The two had stared at their friend with mild confusion in their eyes, but decided not to question it and watched as Clay stormed out of the ballroom. He had run to the nearest window, ripping his mask off and taking a deep breath of air.  _ It doesn’t mean anything, Clay. You knew that Technoblade was a manipulative piece of shit, it’ll be fine. George is with you. You know he loves you, he HAS to love you… right?  _ The blond ran his fingers shakily through his hair, trying to regain his composure. His eyes fell on the stars as he tried to search for one of the constellations, finding the Big Dipper and swallowing harshly.  _ Technoblade dipped George out there… How does he know how to dance so well? Why did George continue to let Techno dance with him, why didn’t he pull away, FUCK FUCK FUCK! _ Clay shook away his thoughts, taking a few more deep breaths before he replaced his mask on his face and walked slowly back to the ballroom.

When he returned, his eyes immediately searched for George. He scanned for the shorter boy, trying to find the pink haired man he was accompanied with earlier, but was met with nothing.  _ He must have run to his chambers or something.  _ Clay rationalized.  _ And Technoblade must have been caught. Yeah, that’s it. That’s what had to have happened.  _ Doubt clouded his mind, but he made his way over to where Nick and Karl still were standing. “Did you guys see where George went? I can’t seem to find him.” 

Nick furrowed his brow, his head turning to look over the large room and shrugging. “The last I saw him he was dancing over there with some guy with a pig mask. But that was like, five minutes ago? He’s probably just talking to some nobles or something, don’t overthink it.”

Panic set in throughout Clay’s body as he forced a smile onto his face. “Y-yeah you’re probably right.”  _ Five minutes? Five fucking minutes? I have to find someone who’s seen him, I have to find George.  _ “I’m not feeling too hot anymore, I think I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you guys later.” Without waiting to hear his friend’s responses, Clay fled the ballroom, desperately searching for anything that could lead him to George.  _ Oh wait, Wilbur! Wilbur and Tommy escaped, I’m sure they’ll be able to help… right?  _ The blond quickly sped towards the direction of Wilbur’s chambers, knocking rapidly until the door swung open to reveal a distressed looking Tommy.

“Well don’t just stand there, get in the bloody room!” The scrawny blond grasped harshly at Clay’s shoulder, yanking him into the room and causing the older to yelp.

As the door shut, Clay narrowed his eyes at Tommy, the child immaturely sticking his tongue out and flipping the older boy off. “Rude.” 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I don’t care. Why are you here?”

Clay ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Have you or Wilbur seen George? No one has seen him since he danced with Technoblade and while I’m trying to think of the best case scenario, my mind can’t help but think of the worst.” A heavy feeling fell over Clay’s body, his arms wrapping around himself. “Please tell me you’ve seen him?” His words came out as a question, causing the younger boy’s eyes to soften. 

“Let me ask Wilbur, but I- I haven’t seen him anywhere. Wil was busy helping me get out of the ballroom, I wasn’t paying much attention to anything other than getting the hell out.”

As if on cue, Wilbur emerged from his bathroom, his eyes landing on Clay and tilting his head in confusion. “Sir Clay? What are you doing here?” 

Tommy sighed. “He can’t find George anywhere. Says the last he saw him, George was dancing with Technoblade and now he’s gone.” 

Wilbur’s eyes widened. “What do you mean he’s gone? Have you checked everywhere?” Clay shook his head ‘no,’ his eyes falling to his feet. The councilman sighed, talking long strides over to the knight and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I understand that you’re panicking, but how about you look everywhere before jumping to conclusions. He could just be in his chambers, or maybe in a private spot. Do you know of anywhere that he would go to be alone?”

Clay’s eyes met Wilbur's, his head nodding slowly. “The castle rooftop.” 

The curly haired man smiled softly. “Okay! How about you go check there first, and if he isn’t there, I’ll alert the guards to search for the king. Does that sound okay, Clay?” His words are careful and gentle, as if Clay would snap under any additional pressure.

Clay nodded once more, taking a deep breath. “Wilbur I don’t have a good feeling about this.” 

Wilbur sighed, his lips pressing into a tight line. “In all honesty, Clay?” A sad look fell over his dark eyes. “I don’t either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft clicking of Clay’s shoes down the empty corridors leading to the castle’s rooftop echoed painfully loud as the knight made his lonely journey to search for George, doubt flooding his body more and more with every step he took.  _ He has to be here. He HAS to. _ His journey came to a halt as he approached the winding staircase leading up, the blond taking a deep inhale.  _ He’ll be up here, he has to be up here.  _ Clay’s steps are slow, as if his legs were too heavy to move, as if everything was telling him to stop, to turn back; but the knight ignored it all. When he reaches the final step, the air in his lungs is practically knocked out of his lungs, the silhouette of a boy being illuminated by the bright moon. Clay felt his heart soar. “George! George thank God, I thought you were gone, I thought Technoblade had taken you, you have no idea how worried I was-”

“Please, Clay. It’s embarrassing to hear you speak like this when it’s very clear that I’m not your George.” 

All air left the knight’s lungs at the sound of the voice, realizing that this wasn’t George, that this wasn’t his king, it wasn’t his lover. “Who are you.” His voice is cold and monotone, his hand unconsciously slipping over the hilt of his sword. 

The stranger chuckled, slowly standing and turning around. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, his face smooth and some sort of deformed innocence flooding his aura. He’s short with a head of fluffy, light brown hair. A painful looking bruise is colored darkly on his left eye and his clothes look battered, yet the boy held himself as tall as he could. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut was filled with a look faltering confidence and sadness, his lips in a tight line. “I don’t think you’re in a position to ask questions right now, Clay.” The boy pauses, tilting his head slightly. “Or is it Dream? I can never keep track of the pesky little nicknames.” He took a step forward, causing Clay to flinch.

_ What. The. Fuck.  _ The knight swallowed harshly. “I’m assuming you work for Technoblade. You’re one of his henchmen, just another pawn in his game. He’s manipulating you, you don’t have to do this.” 

The opposing boy let out a sad laugh. “You have no idea what Technoblade is. You think that you can handle him, but you can’t. He always gets what he wants.” A shaky smile forms on his mouth. “And he wants his little brother back.”

Clay’s heart dropped. “You mean Tommy?” The boy flinches at the mention of Tommy’s name, the older boy trying to connect the dots. “Do you know him? You must know him, that’s why Technoblade sent you.” And then it clicked. “That’s it!” Clay took a few steps closer to the boy. “You’re the boy Tommy wanted to protect, the one friend he had. What was the name he said… Tony, Trevor, Terry…” The small boy gulped loudly as Clay snapped his fingers. “Toby! You’re Toby, aren’t you?’

The boy’s face drops, his unswollen eye going wide. With sudden speed, the short boy runs quickly towards Clay, a small dagger in his hand which he pins to the knight’s throat, a menacing look in his eye. “How do you know that?” His tone lacks any emotion, yet his hands shake slightly.

The blond scoffed confidently, as if he wasn’t terrified of the fact that this small child was holding a dagger to his neck. “How do you think I know that? Tommy told us, he’s on our side.” The boy, Toby, lowered the dagger slightly, his intimidating demeanour fading slightly. Clay let out a silent pray of thanks. “He betrayed Technoblade, he’s told us things about the rebellion. He’s not with you anymore, Toby.” A coy smile plays on the older’s lips. “Or is it Tubbo?” He tilts his head to the side, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I can never keep track of those pesky little nicknames.” The knight pulled his sword from its casing, causing the young boy to stumble back. “Nowhere to go now. You’ll surrender and come with me for being affiliated with the disappearance of the king.”

Toby stared at the edge of the sword with wide eyes before bringing them back to meet Clay’s. He takes a shaky step backwards, his feet moving towards the edge of the roof. “I will not surrender. The things you’re saying about Tommy, they’re not true. You’re lying.”

Clay takes another step closer, the distance between Toby and the sword closing. “I’m not. How else do I know that special little nickname?” 

The boy swallowed harshly, his eyes turning to look at the long drop to the ground. “Tommy would never. He’d never do anything to hurt me.” Toby’s voice is quiet and filled with betrayal and pain. 

A faux look of sympathy crosses Clay’s face. “You know, if George wasn’t missing right now, I’d almost feel bad for you.” He took a final step towards Toby, pressing the tip of the blade against the boy’s neck. “But you have something to do with this, and for that, you’ll pay. Now surrender, or pay the price with your life.” 

Toby’s dark eyes stare at the blade before looking once more at the ground, a cold look resonating in his face as he meets Clay’s gaze once more. “Sorry, Dream.” The boy reaches into his cloak, pulling out a potion and throwing it at the blond, causing the knight to stumble back as he cries out, pain setting through his body. The boy ran to where Clay had stumbled to the ground, grabbing his sword and then running back to the roof’s edge. His eyes are wary as he looks off, but as Clay begins to stand once more, Toby smiles. “When we meet again, the negotiations will be going my way. I can promise you that.” He rests two fingers on his forehead, flicking them out as a salute. “Until then, Clay.” His body falls back without hesitation, causing the knight’s eyes to widen.

“NO!” Clay rushes to the edge, only to see two horses at the bottom of the castle, one of them holding a very alive Toby and the other… Fear sets into Clay. “GEORGE!” A pair of purple eyes meet Clay’s as a wide smile spreads across Technoblade’s face. 

The rebel has George draped over unconscious in his lap, his brown eyes shut and his limbs lying uselessly.  _ I have to do something, I have to get George, I have to get him-  _ “Sorry, loverboy!” Technoblade’s monotone voice rings out. “Don’t worry, though.” His gloved fingers stroked softly through George’s hair, causing Clay’s blood to run cold. “We’ll take good care of your king for you.” 

The pink haired man makes a loud clicking noise, pulling at the reins of the horse. The two ride off into the bright moonlight, causing Clay to drop to his knees. 

  
_ He’s gone.  _ A tear slips down Clay’s cheek, his eyes narrowing as he stares at the fading silhouettes.  _ I’ll get you back, George. I’ll get you back if it’s the last thing I do.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh :/ 
> 
> I completely based the Tubbo falling off the roof from the tik Tok's using "Bamboleo" :| 
> 
> also, if you want to check out the playlists I listen to when I write, my username is _katwatkins_


	10. In the Darkest of Times, Where is Love to Prevail?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He blinks heavily, tongue dashing over his chapped and pale lips. “Just let me go, I beg you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for taking so long to update!!! I hate writing anything that isn't smut or fluff, so this chapter took a lot out of me but I am back! I just started college again so I might not be updating as quickly, but I'll try my best!!
> 
> Also just a quick clarification, the relationship between Technoblade and George is not and will not be romantic. Techno is very manipulative, so he plays to what makes his opposition weak. It is not romantic attraction, it's all a game to him. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and thank you guys so much for 3k+ hits!!!! It means the world to me <3

**G** eorge opened his eyes to be met with a dull, gray cell, his body shivering and a faint smell of mold filling the air around him. The soft sound of water dripping from the stone ceiling of his prison echoed throughout the king’s ears, causing a slight sting to flood through George’s head. He winces, his eyes shutting for a brief moment as a violent pain shoots through his head. 

“You okay there, your highness?” George’s eyes snap open, meeting a pair of all too familiar purple ones and his blood going cold. The mask from the ball still covers his face, yet his attire is much more casual. The brunet swallowed harshly, moving his eyes to the ground and receiving a tired sounding huff. “Oh come oh now majesty, no smart remarks to make at me?” When George continued to not respond, Technoblade let out a sigh. “Okay then, I WAS going to offer you some food, but since you’re not in the mood to play nice, I guess these resources will go elsewhere.” 

At the sound of footsteps slowly walking away, George’s brown eyes shoot up. He contemplated his choices; on one hand, the last thing he wanted to do was be here and comply to Technoblade’s stupid manipulation tactics. However, his stomach was making loud cries for food, and if George ate, the pounding headache he had would probably go away too… “WAIT!” His voice his raspy and desperate, Technoblade’s footsteps halting. “I-I’m sorry. My head just really hurts… please could I have food?” George hates how weak he sounds, begging for food like a dog. 

The tall man turns, nodding his head and a small smirk playing on his lips. “See, your majesty? Was that too hard?” 

George shuddered at the degrading tone of the anarchist’s words, holding back a glare.  _ The nicer you act, the better chances of you getting out of here mostly unharmed are. Just play alone, George.  _ The brunet plastered a small smile on his lips. “You’ll have to forgive my rudeness, I’m not used to getting kidnapped and being held in a cell like some common thief.”

Technoblade snorted. “You’re funny. I’ll give you that.” The pink haired man had walked closer to the cell, his arms crossed and his head tilted curiously as he studied George. “It’s a shame that you’re royalty, I have a feeling we could have gotten along well.” 

George felt his throat start to close. “Forgive me if I’m intruding on a touchy subject but… why DO you hate the monarchy so much?” 

A cold look crosses over Technobalde’s face as he squats down in front of the cell, causing George to freeze. “The crown took everything away from me. When I was just a mere six years old, I was separated from my father and brothers after my mother took me and ran. I had to learn to fend for myself, to provide for me and my mother. My father was highly placed in court, and my poor mother had to deal with the consequences of constantly being threatened by even associating with that bastard father of yours.” Purple eyes zeroed in on George’s brown ones, causing shivers to run through the king’s body. “So my mother took me while my father was out and ran. I was separated from my family to be safe from the threats and danger that came with being loyal to the crown, and I’ve never thought twice about it. The monarchy is corrupting and cruel, and it has done nothing but cause unnecessary wars and ruin. Everything I have built, everything I have built with my rebellion is to ensure the end of the crown once and for all.”

Tears involuntarily began to prick in George’s eyes, causing the brunet to blink the wetness away. “I-I’m sorry that happened to you… but that wasn’t my doing. My father was an awful man; I had to deal with his wrath up close and personal. I understand the hatred of the old king, b-but I can fix it! We can fix it, me and you. If we work together, L’Manburg could be stronger and at peace, you don’t have to-” 

“I wouldn’t have to kill you. That’s what you’re getting at.” The monotone sounding words poured carelessly from the taller’s mouth. “It’s sweet that you think that L’Manburg is even able to be saved. I have a feeling that you’re a good person, George.” Technoblade stands slowly, George’s eyes following the motion. “But you’re royalty. And there is no place in this kingdom for a monarchy.” In a quick motion, the pink haired man draws his sword and slashes expertly through the bars, slicing a gash on George’s arm that causes the brunet to cry out in pain. “Your life is in my hands. I can keep you here for as long as I please; it could be days, weeks, months . Cause the citizens to lose faith in the monarchy, stir up some panic. But know this, Georgie. You will not come out of this alive.” George let out a pained whimper, clutching his arm. Taking a few steps away from the cell, Technoblade turns, a faux look of sympathy on his face. “I’ll slice your head off and deliver it to the castle. Let everyone know that the king is dead, that the legacy of L’Manburg will remain where it should be; forever unfinished.” 

A lone tear streaks down George’s pale cheek, his eyes shut and his mouth open in a silent plea for help. “P-please.” His voice is a mere whisper, fear clouding his mind and body. 

The pig masked man scoffed. “Sorry, Georgie. Enjoy the time on this earth while you can. I can imagine that you’ll have lots to think over in your time here; think about all the goodbyes you never got to say.” He chuckled. “Well, I’ll see you soon, your majesty.”

And then he left, leaving George alone with a grumbling stomach and the knowledge that everything he loved, everything he cared about was going to be stripped away from him.  _ I’m going to die here.  _ A choked sob leaves the brunet’s throat, his small frame dropping to the cold, dirt ground as he curls into a ball.  _ I’m actually going to die. _

~~~~~~~~

After what felt like hours, George found himself beginning to fall into the arms of sleep. The pain in his arm made it difficult to relax, and maybe it was because of the loss of blood, but George found his eyes growing heavy; his head light and the throbbing slowly subsiding…  _ Maybe I’ll be spared from the gruesome death I’ve been promised, maybe instead I’ll just bleed out here and not have to deal with getting beheaded.  _ George laughs at his own pathetic thoughts.  _ I’m actually fated to die. There’s really no escaping now, is there.  _ His eyes begin to shut as a tear runs down his cheek, soft brown hair lolling to the ground as his surroundings fade away.

“No! Your majesty don’t sleep…” A muffled voice calls out, but George is too tired to bother listening. “I never thought it would come to this.” The voice continues, the sound of keys jangling barely registering in George’s ears. “Just hold on. You’re not dying right now. I promise.” George is vaguely aware of a person kneeling down next to him, a soft hand picking up his injured arm and is jolted awake by a sharp, stinging sensation on the wound. 

His eyes jolt open to be met with a blurred outline of a small girl. “L-Lani?” His voice is weak and raspy as his eyes begin to focus, the kitchen girl’s small frame beginning to become clear. 

Her warm brown eyes are tilted in concern, bandages and a wet cloth supported in her small hands. “Hello again, your majesty.” She bites her lip, shivering slightly. “I’m so sorry this happened, it’s all my fault.” With shaky hands, Lani moves the cloth to George’s wound, cleaning up as much blood as she could from the area. “You’re lucky this isn’t a super deep cut, it looks like you won’t need stitches, and thank God for that because I am far too young to know how to do that.” She begins to unravel the bandage, carefully wrapping it around the cut. 

George watches, his eyes not meeting the small girl’s. “What do you mean this is all your fault, Lani? How did you even get here?”

The young girl finishes wrapping the wound and sighs, leaning back against the cold stonewall of the cell. “I’m a spy. I was sent to work in the kitchen a few days after Tommy didn’t come back after his capture, to make sure he stayed loyal. It was looking good for a while, until Wilbur came back into Tommy’s life.” She pauses, as if she knew that everything she was saying was enough to get her executed, but continued anyways. “Technoblade is holding my brother as leverage over me to do his bidding, to infiltrate the castle and learn as much as I can to benefit the Blade. How could I refuse? Toby is my family, I had to do what I could to protect him.” Lani reaches behind her, pulling out a loaf of bread and holding it out to George. 

The brunet took it timidly, his eyes finally meeting Lani’s. “I understand that, Lani. What I don’t understand is how me being here is related to you?”

A sad huff of air that resembled a laugh escapes the girl’s throat. “Don’t you get it? That day I walked in on you in Sir Clay’s chambers, when you told me not to tell anyone? I told Technoblade of it, that’s how he was able to get you wound up at the ball. How he got you defenseless. He knew you two were together, he knew that he could use your love against each other.” Lani’s dark eyes began to well up with tears. “And now you’re here and you’ll die and it’s all my fault!” Delicate tears fall daintily down her pale cheeks, a pang of sympathy imaling George’s heart. 

He shakily sat up, his eyes tilted in concern as he looked at the young girl. “Lani, this isn’t your fault.” Her eyes slowly move to meet George’s, a sad laugh leaving her throat as she sniffs and shakes her head. “Really, if I was in your position, I would have done the same thing.” The brunet swallows thickly. “You were just protecting the people you love. Technoblade used your brother to make you do those things. Everything that’s happened isn’t your fault, it’s Techno’s. I promise.”

Lani wipes her eyes, sniffing. “But, but I-”

George gives her a sad smile. “No, Lani. I swear, you did what you had to do in order to survive. You were put in an impossible situation for someone so young, and you are unbelievably strong for being able to do what you did.” 

The young girl’s tears begin to subside, her breaths shaky as she shuts her eyes firmly, standing up slowly. When her eyes open, a broken smile crosses her face. “I hope that what you say is the truth, your highness.” She glances to the cell door, then back at George’s cuffed wrists. “I wish I could do more, I wish I could help you out of this miserable place.” A light sigh leaves her lips. “I hope your knight finds you. I hope he can save you and that you live to rule L’Manburg once more. But until then, just… try to stay as safe as you can.” She takes a few small steps to the exit, carefully opening the door and locking it behind her. Her eyes meet George’s, a sympathetic smile on her lips. “I’ll try to come back later to check on the wound and get you some more food. Goodbye, your majesty.” She starts to walk away.

George sighs, staring at her retreating figure. “Wait!” Lani pauses, turning around slowly to look at the shambles of a man that the king had become. A soft smile forms on his lips. “Call me George.”

Lani hesitates, a similar smile on her face as well. “Alright then. Goodbye, George. I’ll see you as soon as I can, I promise.” She turns back around, leaving the brunet alone once more with the sickly sound of water dropping and the painful words that he feared would never hear the light of day. 

~~~~~~~~~

It had been three months. Three months without any word of where the King was, three months with scouts coming back empty handed, three months which were met with joy from Technoblade. He didn’t take pleasure in holding a seemingly innocent man hostage; he wasn’t a psychopath, but the thought of how one man was able to send an entire kingdom into a deep state of panic was quite amusing to the pink haired man. 

Of course, George couldn’t be seen as innocent. Not to Techno, not after everything that the monarchy had done to his family. The tall man was currently pacing the dimly lit space of his rebellion’s newly relocated base. The anarchist had to change locations from his old base, he had to considering Tommy knew the location of the old one. A heavy sigh left his lips at the thought of the younger boy, his head shaking in disappointment at his supposed prodigy’s betrayal to the rebellion, but Toby had been making promising improvement as a replacement. Sure he wasn’t as threatening or aggressive, but he was easy to keep in check since he still had his silly ties to the ones he loved. 

Techno remembered when such things still held him back; back when his parents were happy, back when he would play chess with his twin brother, or when he would listen to his father’s hum of a lullaby to his then infant brother. Of course, those moments were gone. His mother had died years ago, and he hardly knew anything about the rest of his family now. 

His fingers dance over the gold locket resting against his chest, fishing it out and opening it to look at the pictures that his mother had put in it. A small, blond boy and a boy who was about 10 with curly brown hair and a lopsided pair of glasses. The engraved ‘W’ and ‘T’ had been traced over many times by Techno’s fingers, often in the rare times when the pink haired man felt anxious or alone. 

“Technoblade, the prisoner is acting up again.” Toby’s british voice cuts through Techno’s train of thought, his purple eyes snapping up to look at the short, brown haired boy. He tucks the locket beneath his shirt, straightening his back and sighing.

He slicks his hair back, adjusting his cloak. “Let’s go see our mighty king, shall we?” The pair walk in silence to the holding cells, their steps echoing as they make their descent into the depths of the base. At the end of their journey, Techno stands in front of the cell, a coy smile on his face. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the almighty King George.”

The brunet looked awful, his face gaunt and his eyes shallow and dark. The color from his cheeks had disappeared, his cheeks hollow. The white shirt that had fit him oh so well at the start of these three months hung dangerously loose from his frail frame, his collar bones poking out sharply. His body was littered with scars and bloodied bandages from the other times the brunet had lashed out or misbehaved, yet the second Technoblade made his presence known, his cold eyes snapped up, a cruel look flashing through the dark brown pools. 

Techno laughs, the sound monotone and cold. “Aw come on now, your highness. There’s no need to give me such a mean look.” He kneeled down, his face level with George’s.

George spits. “Fuck you. Let me out you sick bastard.” His voice is frighteningly weak, his words sounding like nails on a chalkboard. “Just let me go, they’ll never find me. You can’t keep me here forever, please. Let me go back, I’ll run away, I’ll never be king again, I- I promise.” He blinks heavily, tongue dashing over his chapped and pale lips. “Just let me go, I beg you.”

The plea was tempting to the pink haired man, to let George run away from the thing he once valued so much. Yet even with George right in front of him, begging on his knees to be released from his torture, Technoblade knew better. He reached between the bars of the cell, his fingers tracing lightly over the sharp edges of George’s cheek, causing the brunet to flinch. He gave him a look of fake sadness, his grip tightening. “Oh Georgie. You knew the terms of this imprisonment.” He lets go harshly. “You’re in here until you die. Your life is in my hands, remember? I decide when and where you die, I have the power now, not you.”

Tears fall from George’s eyes, making direct eye contact with Technoblade with a dead look in his eyes. “Just kill me now. Please, please, please.” His voice is almost unbearable to hear, each word like a knife. “I would rather be dead than rot here alone, I can’t do this. Please just kill me, Techno.” The tall man raises an eyebrow as George’s body goes limp to the ground, his voice a mere whisper. “You win. You win and I lose, isn’t that what you wanted? I get it, you have the power and I don’t. Just let this suffering end.” He swallows thickly. “Just let me die.”

The sound of violent screams ring from above, Technoblade’s eyes immediately moving away from George and to the exit of the cell. Toby’s eyes move with his before snapping to Techno’s panic evident. “TECHNOBLADE, WHERE ARE YOU, YOU PIG FACED FUCKER!” 

George’s eyes slowly moved towards the yell that echoed through the air, his eyes heavy. “D-Dream?” 

And it was then in that moment that for the first time in over ten years, Technoblade felt afraid. 

He felt fear. 

  
  



	11. Time is Nothing Without You, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two make eye contact for a brief amount of time before she turns back to look at Wilbur and Tommy. “I wish you all the best luck, I hope I see you and Toby together once more, Tommy.” As she walks towards the knights, and stops, turning to Clay once more and rushing over, giving him a tight hug that catches the blond off guard. She sniffs, wiping her eyes. “He’s really messed up, Clay. I was scared he wasn’t going to make it, but I think he’s been holding out to see you one more time.” She pulls away, the tall knight looking down at her with worry evident in his green eyes. “Save him, save our king.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh wtf 3.8K hits??? 
> 
> Thank y'all so much I literally cannot comprehend that people are reading and enjoying this, it's actually insane to me.
> 
> On another note, anyone else obsessed with Roadtrip? I'd assume so, but like I listened to it exclusively for 2 days after it came out and now it's all I think about. Anyways, enjoy chapter 11 :DDD

**I** t had been three months. Three months of L’Manburg not having its king, three months of everyone in the castle clinging on to a faint strain of hope that George was still alive, three months where Clay was left without the sound of his lover’s smile. Clay felt as if he was going insane with every failed search party, it was as if every bit of hope that the knight held in his body was slowly slipping away with each day that went by. 

The kingdom had been in a state of panic ever since the kidnapping, the townsfolk were told to look for any suspicious activity and report it immediately to the Royal Guard. Yet every tip, every clue that was given always leads to the same thing. Search parties stranded in the middle of the woods, base nowhere in sight. Tommy had gone out on the third night, much to Wilbur’s displeasure, but was met with the same results as everyone else had. 

Empty handed and with a sympathetic look on their faces as they looked into Clay’s cold, green eyes. 

It was winter now, George’s birthday had come and gone just like the season had. Clay had sobbed for the entirety of November 1st, failing to eat or do anything other than sit in George’s chambers and try to cling on to the fading scent of mint and vanilla that he somehow always sported. It was revealed that the two were romantically involved a month after George had been taken, first to Nick and Karl after Clay had gone to a random tavern and got beyond shitfaced. It spread throughout the castle after that, but none of it mattered. 

The only reason they were keeping it a secret was so that Technoblade couldn’t harm Clay, but instead, the bastard got George instead. Eret, a member of the council, had been filling in as king for the time being. He was a nice guy; he seemed to do the job with ease and enjoyed it as well, but it just felt to Clay as if L’Manburg was letting go of George. Many suspected the king was dead, that Technoblade got tired of waiting for their base to be found and just took care of the problem, but the knight refused to acknowledge that as a possibility. The members of the royal guard and almost all of the knights still held onto the hope that their king was still alive; still searching all throughout the cold, winter nights for any sign of Technoblade’s base. 

Nick and Karl tried their best to be there for Clay, trying to do things to take the blond’s mind off of the situation, but their attempts were futile. Clay felt as if he was mad; as if this was the tipping point of his sanity. He either spent the days searching like a madman for a base that was seemingly impossible to find, or would be locked in George’s room for days on end, refusing to eat, to see anyone. He could only bury himself within the depth of George’s bed, praying and crying for the return of his lover, begging that Clay would once again see his lover once more. 

It was a frigid December day when they found it. The air was filled with thick snowflakes that stung at the skin on Clay’s face, but he pushed through it. He had a sizable group with him today, including Tommy, Wilbur, Nick and Karl. They had wandered far, farther than they ever had. Past the castle grounds, past the village until they were met with a horrifying looking cliff; one with sharp edges and a steep decline, the bottom of it filled with rushing water that smashed harshly against the large rocks that were scattered around the cliff’s wall. 

Clay almost considered it a dead end, almost sent the entire group back to L’Manburg to reconvene and try again until Tommy abruptly jumped off of his horse, the action highly ungraceful as his lanky body stumbled over itself. The blond was staring in disbelief at a small figure, looking at it as if it was a ghost. “Lani?” 

The name struck Clay like lightning, his eyes snapping to the girl. She looked similar to how she did at the castle, but instead of kitchen clothes, the young girl was adorned in a heavy blue cloak and thick winter boots, her brown eyes pooling with tears upon seeing the tall boy. “Tommy! Oh thank god, I thought you’d never find us.” She ran and gave him a brief hug, which the blond reciprocated before turning to his brother. 

“Wil, we have to keep her safe. This is Toby’s sister.” His voice wavers at the mention of his friend, causing a sad look to cross Wilbur’s face. 

The curly haired man turned to a few knights. “You two, make sure that Lani gets back to the castle safely. Tell Eret that we have located the king, and that he will return soon.” He looks at Lani, crouching down and giving her a soft look. “Lani, before you go, how do we get into the base?

The girl stares at Wilbur with wary eyes before they move slightly to where Clay stood, his green eyes trained on the girl. Lani slowly walks to him looking up and tilting her head. “There’s a hidden staircase by that spruce over there.” She pauses to point at a large tree. “Techno made it so that you can’t get in without a key code, so you take mine.” She fishes into a small, leather bag and pulls out a small piece of paper with neatly written numbers on it and hands it to Clay, who takes it hesitantly. The two make eye contact for a brief amount of time before she turns back to look at Wilbur and Tommy. “I wish you all the best luck, I hope I see you and Toby together once more, Tommy.” As she walks towards the knights, and stops, turning to Clay once more and rushing over, giving him a tight hug that catches the blond off guard. She sniffs, wiping her eyes. “He’s really messed up, Clay. I was scared he wasn’t going to make it, but I think he’s been holding out to see you one more time.” She pulls away, the tall knight looking down at her with worry evident in his green eyes. “Save him, save our king.”

Then she walks once more to the knights, one of them hoisting her up onto their horse and the three riding away through the harsh snow, their figures fading quickly until they couldn’t be seen anymore. The remaining men made their way to the tree, Clay hesitating and looking down at the piece of paper in his hand. A camouflaged covering to look like the bark of the tree was revealed to hide the keypad, Clay’s fingers shaking. From the cold or the anticipation of finally seeing George again, he couldn’t tell. He types in the last number and the base of the tree flings open to reveal that it was hallowed out, a deep spiral staircase being revealed. 

He takes a deep breath and takes a step forward, beginning the descent down the stairs until a british accent cuts him off. “Tommy, you’re not coming down here.” Wilbur’s voice is firm, causing an angry noise to leave the young boy’s throat.

“Bullshit, I know Techno. I’m good to have, he’ll be more open to negotiate if I’m there, just give me a chance-”

“No, Tommy. You have to stay here, watch the horses.” The blond begins to complain again, but Wilbur cuts him off. “Tommy, I’m not losing you! Not when I just got you back!” 

The two remain silent, a pang of sadness slashing through Clay’s heart. Tommy sighs loudly. “Alright. Fine. I’ll stay.” He pauses. “Give me your cloak? It’s so bloody cold.” 

Wilbur laughs softly, shrugging off his cloak and draping it over Tommy’s shoulders. The blond embraces Wilbur tightly, his thin arms wrapping firmly around his brother’s body, Wilbur doing the same. It was a sweet moment, so personal that Clay felt like he was invading. The brunet squeezes the blond tight. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

Tommy chuckles sadly. “You better be, Niki will be pissed if her fianceè doesn’t come back and she never gets her wedding that she’s been planning.” The two let go of each other, Clay clearing his throat.

“Be safe, Tommy. We’ll be out soon.” The two nod at each other, Tommy taking a step away from the tree and the door shutting, trapping the soldiers in. Wilbur makes his way to the front of the pack, walking next to Clay. The group travels in silence as to not alert any of the guards that Techno was sure to have around the base, the only sound emitting from the soldiers being hushed breaths and quiet footsteps. Clay reaches the bottom of the staircase first, peeking his head around the wall that covers the end of the stairs, seeing two guards standing outside with the same blue cloaks Lani had been wearing. He takes a deep breath, turning to look at the group. “There’s two. We can take them easily, but be careful. Try to be as subtle as possible.” His voice is a mere whisper, yet all the men nodded their heads in understanding. Clay holds up three fingers, silently counting down as he lowers the helm of his armour over his face. As his hand turns to a fist, he surges forward, grasping one of the guards by the neck and covering his mouth while he drives his sword through his armourless body, watching as it falls to the ground. He looks up to see that Sir Nick has done the same to the other guard, he and Karl beginning to drag the body to the end of the staircase in an attempt to hide it. Clay tilts his head to the direction of the man he’s killed, signalling one of the knights to do the same. 

The entrance to the base is sealed off by another key pad, the blond once more typing in Lani’s numbers, the door clicking and allowing Clay to open it with ease. A dangerous look crosses his face, every emotion he had felt over the past three months rushing to the surface.  _ I’m coming George.  _ He surges forward, swinging his sword and yelling loudly as the rest of the knights follow behind him. “TECHNOBLADE, WHERE ARE YOU, YOU PIG FACED FUCKER!”  _ I’ll save you, George. Even if I die in the process. You’re going home. _

~~~~~~~~~

Wilbur wasn’t a fan of violence. He would much rather stay behind and let the knights deal with such matters, but when his brother demanded to involve himself, the brunet found himself compelled to join the search party. The entire ride out, Wilbur found himself fiddling with the golden locket he kept around his neck, rubbing his fingers over the smooth outside of it. 

Tommy, the ever nosey little brother he was, rode up next to Wilbur, leaning his head over to look at what his brother was so distracted by. “What’s that you got there?” His pale fingers gesture to the locket, a warm smile crossing his lips. 

He removes his fingers from the locket, watching as Tommy tilted his head in confusion. “It was dad’s. He always wore it, died with it on the battlefield.” A sad smile crosses his lips. “I’ve worn it ever since I received it. Makes me feel close to him, if that makes sense.” 

Tommy nods, but Wilbur was sure that he was only doing it out of remorse. “What’s inside?” His younger brother’s curiosity causes Wilbur to chuckle. He opens the locket, revealing a picture of Tommy when he was a child and an empty side, the picture having fallen out or been removed years ago. Tommy’s look softens. “Is that…”

Wilbur nods. “You?” A warm smile spreads over his face. “Yeah. One of the only pictures we had of you… mom left a few weeks after and we never heard from her again.” 

The two ride in silence for a few minutes, Wilbur closing the locket. Tommy swallows thickly. “Wil… what do you think was on the other side of the locket?” His voice is quiet, alerting Wilbur that something was wrong.

The brunet shrugs. “I dunno, mom was a village witch and dad is convinced that she used memory potions on me and him to get rid of something from our lives but I- I can’t remember.” It was something that had always bothered Wilbur throughout his childhood; his own mother abandoning them and erasing a part of their lives while doing it. Of course, he hardly even remembered her being in their lives and his father never spoke of her, so her presence wasn’t missed that much. He sighs at the thought of his mother. “Mom and dad didn’t get along much, apparently she didn’t like his position with the crown; thought he was going to get the family in trouble if he continued serving the king.” He let out an emotionless laugh. “Guess she turned out to be right, in the end.”

The silence from before returns, the air seemingly heavier than it had previously been. Tommy starts to open his mouth to say something, but shuts it quickly. He takes a deep breath before opening it once more. “Do you think things would have been different if she had stayed? Like… maybe I wouldn’t have been taken and I could’ve grown up with you?” His breathing is a little shaky, but he sits tall on the horse. “Do you think we could’ve been a family?”

Wilbur pauses, taking his brother’s question into consideration. “I really don’t know, Tommy.” He’s silent for a brief moment before continuing. “I think that if she had stayed, things would have been worse. More fighting between dad and mom would have resulted in them projecting it on us, I think. I don’t think it matters, though.”

Tommy cocks his head. “Why’s that?”

Wilbur’s eyes turn to meet Tommy’s icey blue ones, a comforting look on his face. “Because we’re together now. Isn’t that what matters, in the end?” 

Tommy’s horse stops, causing Wilbur to do the same and tilt his head in confusion. He takes a deep breath. “I-I…” His words trail off as his eyes snap up and widen in shock, practically falling off his horse and running towards the figure of a girl that was hardly visible through the thick flakes of snow falling down. “Lani?” 

The two converse briefly, the girl revealing the entrance to Techno’s base and giving Clay the way in. She whispers something to him that Wilbur can’t quite make out, her figure retreating as she rides away into the snow to safety. 

As Clay opens the entrance to the base, Wilbur can’t help but feel a wave of unease wash over his body, especially when Tommy goes to take a step down the staircase. Panic replaces the unease, his arm rapidly bracing in front of his brother’s body earning him an angry glare. “Tommy, you’re not coming down here.” 

He scoffs, eyes rolling. “Bullshit, I know Techno. I’m good to have, he’ll be more open to negotiate if I’m there, just give me a chance-”

“No, Tommy. You have to stay here, watch the horses.” He lets out an annoyed huff, beginning to push against Wilbur’s arm, causing the brunet to snap in concern. “Tommy, I’m not losing you! Not when I just got you back!”  _ Not when I finally have my family again. _ The thought is spoken in silence, yet Tommy seemed to hear it. 

He pauses before a loud sigh leaves his lips. “Alright. Fine. I’ll stay.” He pauses momentarily, eyes becoming sad. “Give me your cloak? It’s so bloody cold.” The words hold a joking tone, but the look on his face portrays something else.

A broken laugh leaves Wilbur’s lips as he stares at his brother for a moment. Tommy returns the motion, and in a quick flash his arms wrap tightly around his waist, his thin limbs shaking slightly. The motion makes Wilbur’s heart crack, his arms repeating the motion and squeezing Tommy’s frame tightly. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

A sad laugh escapes Tommy’s throat as he pulls away.. “You better be, Niki will be pissed if her fianceè doesn’t come back and she never gets her wedding that she’s been planning.” At the mention of the blonde, Wilbur swallows thickly, his heart clenching. 

And then he left to fight a battle for his king, for his country, and for the family that he hoped to have once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~

An hour of violence had passed. Fifteen of Technoblade’s fighters died, only one of their own gone, yet they moved forward. Clay wasn’t going to stop, not until he saw that pink haired fucker dead. Eventually, the group found themselves in the middle of what looked like a meeting room, a long table with many chairs around it sitting right in the center of the room. Clay’s eyes widen as they take in the room, seeing a large board filled with pictures of everyone in the castle. 

Pictures Tommy, George, and Clay. Lines of red string were mapped over the chart, attached to the pictures that were almost disturbing to look at. 

The amount of pictures containing Clay and George together was concerning. There were pictures from when they danced at the balls, from the coronation. Pictures from private moments; their trips to the rooftop, their first kiss. Intimate and personal moments that were supposed to be just for the two of them to witness. It made Clay’s blood boil. 

“Impressive, isn’t it.” The voice was small and unexpected, yet it still caused everyone to swing around and look where it came from, Clay’s face dropping when he saw Toby. Memories from the night George was taken come flooding back, Toby falling backwards off the rooftop without hesitation, Techno’s taunting words as he rode off with George. Clay points the tip of his sword at the boy, but he doesn’t flinch. It was disturbing. His brown eyes move to the pointed edge before moving back up, scanning over the group with slight hope in his eyes before they drop in disappointment.  _ Tommy.  _

Clay looks to Wilbur, silently mouthing his brother’s name and hoping the brunet was good at reading lips. It seemed to be successful, because his brown eyes widened. “So we meet again, Tubbo, was it?” 

His eyes flare for a moment before he composes himself, frighteningly calm for someone with a blade pointed at their throat. “You don’t have the right to call me that, Sir Clay.” His eyes meet Wilbur’s, his head tilting in confusion. “Who are you? A member of the royal council on a rescue mission for the king?” He snorts, amused. “Didn’t take you for a violence person, Sir Wilbur.”

The curly haired man straightens, taking calm and collected steps towards the boy. An emotionless smile crosses his lips. “I’m not one. But when my brother is involved, I find myself a little obligated to insert myself.” 

Shock washes over the young boy, brown eyes conveying the most emotion Clay had seen. “W-what? Who’s your brother?” His eyes flick a golden locket Wilbur had draped around his neck, his eyes widening before meeting Wilbur’s. “Y-you’re the other brother.” 

It was now Wilbur’s turn to become confused. “What? The fuck is that supposed to mean?” It was this moment that Clay decided to send a few soldiers off, gesturing his head in the direction of the room’s exit. They nod in response, leaving while the boy is distracted. 

Toby swallows thickly. He opens his mouth to say something, but words fail to come out of his mouth. Clay nudges his sword further, the tip just brushing against the boy’s throat. “Enough of this. Where is George.” It wasn’t a question. 

The boy releases a shaky breath, eyes not leaving Wilbur’s lanky figure. He slowly reaches into the depths of his cape, shuffling around until he pulls out a small circle of keys. His hands hesitate as they move to give the ticket to George’s freedom to his enemy, yet he complies; his small, pale hands giving the keys to Wilbur without breaking eye contact once. 

The sight was slightly unsettling, but in the blink of an eye, Wilbur tosses the keys to Clay, the blond catching them swiftly and lowering his sword only for it to be replaced with Nick’s. The knight turns to look at his friend, a small smile playing on his lips. “Go, Clay. We’ll take care of this one, you and Wilbur go save our King.” 

Clay wants to embrace his friend, but knows that wasting anymore time would simply result in a lesser chance of getting to George in time. 

_ George. _

  
The realization that Clay would finally be seeing his face again; that he would be able to touch his hand, stare into his dark brown eyes, kiss his lips again slammed into the knight at full speed, the epiphany almost too much for him to handle.  _ I’m going to see George.  _ A goofy smile plays on his lips as he looks at the keys in his hands.  _ I’m going to be with him again.  _ The blond sends a thankful nod in the direction of Nick before running out of the room, Wilbur trailing behind.  _ I’m coming to get you, my king. This nightmare is going to be over, my love.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter pog :P
> 
> Protective Big Brother Wilbur owns my ass, I love this man.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed :D


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